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EECEPTION OF COLUMBUS BY FER1)J>,'AXD AND ISABKJ.BA. 



DECISIVE EVENTS 



IN THE STORY OF THE 



GREAT REPUBLIC 



HALF-HOURS WITH AMERICAN HISTORY 



SELECTED AND 



/ 

EErtTED 



CHARLES^MORRIS 

AUTHOR OF " AN ELEMENTARY HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES," " HALF-HOURS WITH 

THE BEST AMERICAN AUTHORS," " HALF-HOURS WITH THE BEST FOREIGN 

AUTHORS," " HALF-HOURS WITH THE BEST HUMOROUS AUTHORS," 

" KING ARTHUR, AND THE KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE," 

ETC., ETC. 



1- V 



ILLUSTRATED WITH FOUR COLORED PLATES AND 
THIRTY-TWO FULL-PAGE ENGRAVINGS 



PHILADELPHIA 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 

I 89 I c,. 




OCT I?;o9! 



/ 



'U/ 



Copyright, 1886, by J. B. Lippincott Company. 



Copyright, 188", by J. B. Lippincott Company. 



Copyright, 1891, by J. B. Lippincott Company. 



En^ 



vJ\«'\'3 



PREFACE. 



Of histories of America there exists an abundant store, 
some of them attempting to cover the whole period, others 
limited in scope, while many are devoted to some single 
topic of the varied panorama of national life. Some of 
these works are noted for brilliancy of style, others for 
conscientiousness in research, others as being written by 
participants in the events described, while to still others 
quaintness of manner or antiquity of dates gives a certain 
value. Yet few of them ai-e without unevenness of quality, 
and in history as in general literature authors often appear 
to most advantage in selected extracts from their works, 
since no man can always be at his best. It is of such choice 
extracts from a large number of authors that " Decisive 
Events in the Story of the Great Eepublic" is made up, 
the editor indulging in the hope that a work composed of 
carefully chosen selections from the most striking portions 
of numerous histories may prove to possess a value much 
beyond that of the production of any single author. The 
history of our country is certainly a subject of the highest 
interest and importance, and is here given in selections from 
works familiar and unfamiliar, man}^ of them being beyond 
the reach of general readers, while others are too volumi- 
nous for the taste and leisure of others than students of 
history. 

The extracts have been systematically treated, being 
arranged in chronological succession, divided into historical 



iv PREFACE. 

eras, and joined by connecting links of narrative in which 
the intermediate events are sketched. By this method of 
treatment the editor has succeeded in making his work not 
alone a series of selections from historians, but also a con- 
nected history of the settlement of America and of the colo- 
nial and national development of the United States. The 
selections have been confined to events of special interest 
or importance, many of them describing those striking and 
dramatic scenes which have become like household words 
to American readers. Events of minor importance have 
been passed over in rapid outline. Hence the numerous 
details of uninteresting incidents, to which historians are 
obliged to give a prominence little less marked than that 
devoted to the leading historical occurrences, and which 
readers often labor through with a sense of mental weari- 
ness, are here thrown into the background to which they 
naturally belong, while the foreground is occupied with 
detailed descriptions of events to which some particular 
interest attaches. A work thus arranged may be compared 
to a landscape, over whose dead levels the eye ranges with 
a rapid glance, while constrained to rest with attention 
upon its elevations or features of special attractiveness. 

In addition to the connecting links of narrative, and re- 
mai'ks introductory to historical eras, the editor has been 
obliged himself to furnish several more extended articles, 
through failure to find satisfactory brief statements of 
certain subjects, a treatment of which was necessary to 
the historical completeness of the work. Yet in these 
articles as in the others he acknowledges indebtedness to 
the labors of American historians, as he has simply pre- 
sented their facts and inferences in his own words. 

The work thus prepared is offei'ed to the public with the 
trust that it will be found to possess features of value and 
interest, and that it may be accepted by many as a more 



PREFACE. V 

satisfactory treatment of American history than are most 
of the works which seek to cover with full detail the entire 
field. 

The editor returns sincere thanks to the various authors 
whose names are given in the body of the work, and many 
of whom have with great courtesy granted him permission 
to use extracts from their copyrighted works ; and to the 
following publishers, to whom he is indebted for similar 
favors : Harper & Brothers, D. Appleton & Co., G. P. Put- 
nam's Sons, A. S. Barnes & Co., Charles Scribner's Sons, 
Dick & Fitzgerald, and Dodd, Mead & Co., of New York ; 
Little, Brown & Co., Ticknor & Co., and Houghton, Mifflin 
& Co., of Boston ; Porter & Coates and J. B. Lippincott 
Co., of Philadelphia ; American Publishing Co., and O. D. 
Case & Co., of Hartford ; Eobert Clarke & Co., of Cincin- 
nati ; and A. C. McClurg & Co., and Callaghan & Co., of 
Chicago ; also to the Massachusetts Historical Society. 



I* 



CONTENTS OF PART I. 



SECTION I. 

THE PERIOD BEFORE COLUMBUS. 

SUBJECT. AUTHOB. PAGE 

On the Origin of the Americans Hubert H. Bancroft .... 9 

The Kingdom of Fusang S. AVells AVilliams .... 18 

Discovery of America by the Northmen . Arthur J. Weise 22 

The Aborigines of America Charles Morris 28 



SECTION II. 

THE ERA OF DISCOVERY, 

Columbus in Europe William Robertson 

The Discovery of America by Columbus . Washington Irving 
The Discovery of the Pacific by Balboa . Thomas F. Gordon . 
Retreat of Cortes from the City of Mexico . William H. Prescott 

Hernando de Soto N. D'Anvers . . . 

The Discovery of the St. Lawrence . . . John McMullen . . 
The Massacre of the French Protestants . Walter Besant . . 
The Colonies of Sir Walter Raleigh . . . Mary Howitt . . . 



40 
49 
61 
69 
80 
89 
97 
105 



SECTION III. 

THE ERA OF SETTLEMENT. 

Introductory Remarks 

John Smith and the Jamestown Colony . Charles Campbell 
The Indian Massacre in Virginia .... Robert. R. Howison 

The Settlement of Maryland J. Thomas Scharp 

The Landing of the Pilgrims John Gorham Palfrey 

Religious Dissensions in New England . William Robertson 

The Pequot AV^ar G. H. Hollister . . 

Champlain and the Iroquois Francis Parkman . 

The Settlement of New York E. B. O'Callaghan 

The Quaker Colony John Stoughton . . 

The " Grand Model" Government .... Hugh Williamson . 
Louisiana and the Natchez Le Page Du Pratz 



114 
116 
130 
138 
145 
154 
162 
172 
182 
193 
203 
208 



Vlll 



CONTENTS OF PART I. 



SECTION IV. 
PROGRESS OF THE COLONIES. 

SUBJECT. AUTHOR. 

The Persecution of the Quakers James Grahame . . 

The Death of King Philip Benjamin Church . 

The Salem Witchcraft George Bancroft . 

The Tyrant of New England Benjamin Trumbull 

The Leisler Revolt in New York .... William Smith . . 

The Bacon Rebellion Charles Campbell 

Colonial Hostilities Francis X. Garneau 

The Spanish Invasion of Georgia .... William Bacon Stevens 
The Negro Plot in New York Mary L. Booth . . . . 



paqb 
217 
225 
233 
243 
251 
260 
273 
284 
292 



SECTION V. 



THE FRENCH AND 

Introductory Remarks 

The Opening of the War 

Braddock's Defeat 

The Battle at Lake George 

The Expulsion of the Aeadians 

Three Years of Warfare 

Wolfe and Montcalm at Quebec 

War with the Cherokees 



INDIAN WAR. 
301 

Jared Sparks 304 

John Frost 313 

Francis Parkman 322 

James Hannay 333 

Abiel Holmes 344 

Washington Irving .... 355 

Benjamin Trumbull .... 368 



SECTION VI. 

THE THRESHOLD OP THE REVOLUTION. 

Political Development in America .... Charles Morris 380 

England and her Colonies Mary Howitt 397 

How the Stamp Act was received in 

America Richard Hildreth 406 

A Parliamentary Examination Benjamin Franklin .... 414 

The Growth of Discontent Henry Cabot Lodge .... 424 

The Tea Tax and the Boston Port Bill . . James Grahame 431 

The First Shots of the Revolution .... Thos. Wentworth Higginson. 444 

The Battle of Bunker Hill William Cutter 450 

Arnold on Lake Champlain Isaac N. Arnold 462 

The Siege of Boston David Ramsay 472 

The Continental Congress and its Doings . Edmund Ollier 480 

America in 1776 Eugene Lawrence 495 

The Declaration of Independence .... Thomas Jefferson 507 



CONTENTS OF PART II. 



SECTION VII. 

THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 

SUBJECT. AUTHOR. PAQB 

Preliminary Remarks Charles Morris 7 

TheCaptureof Long Island and New York. J. D. Steele 19 

The Victory at Trenton Henry B. Carrington ... 27 

The Capture of Philadelphia Charles Botta 38 

The Expedition against Fort Schuyler . . Benson J. Lossing 48 

The Surrender of Burgoyne Sir Edward S. Creasy ... 60 

Washington at Valley Forge Washington Irving .... 73 

Franklin in France .... Jared Sparks 82 

The Bon Homme Richard and the Serapis. James Fenimore Cooper . . 94 

The Treason of Arnold Jared Sparks 106 

The Cowpens and Guilford Court-House . George Washington Greene. 117 

The Surrender of Cornwallis Abiel Holmes 127 

SECTION VIII. 

THE UNION FOUNDED AND SUSTAINED. 

The Army and Country after the War . . John Marshall 136 

The Making of the Constitution .... Richard Frothingham . . . 147 
The Whiskey Insurrection in Pennsyl- 
vania John C. Hamilton 161 

The Pioneer of Kentucky John S. C. Abbott 169 

War with the Western Indians James Steward 180 

The Purchase of Louisiana John Bach McMaster . . . 189 

Stephen Decatur and the Frigate Phila- 
delphia James Fenimore Cooper . . 201 

The Chesapeake Affair and the Embargo . James Schouler 212 

Two Years of War Charles Morris 221 

The Constitution and the Guerriere . . . Joel T. Headley 226 

Perry's Victory on Lake Erie Theodore Roosevelt .... 234 

The Battle of the Thames Charles J. Ingersoll . . . 243 

ix 



X CO A TENTS OF PART II. 

SUBJECT. AUTHOR. PAGE 

The Charge at Lundy's Lane H. M. Brackenridge .... 248 

The Capture and Burning of Washington. Benson J. Lossing 260 

The Defence of New Orleans George R. Gleig 272 

SECTION IX. 

THE PROGRESS OF NATIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

The First Quarter of the Century .... Charles Morris 286 

The Missouri Compromise Herman E. von Holst . . . 305 

The Ordinance of Nullification Edward Everett 317 

The Seminole War George R. Fairbanks . . . 328 

The Battle of Buena Vista John Frost 337 

Events Preceding the Civil War .... Charles Morris ...'... 350 

SECTION X. 

THE ERA OF CIVIL WAR. 

John Brown and the Raid upon Harper's 

Ferry Horace Greeley 363 

Fort Sumter Bombarded Orville J. Victor 372 

The Monitor and the Merrimack .... John W. Draper 383 

The Conflict at Antietam Benson J. Lossing 392 

The Battle of Shiloh William Swinton 407 

Farragut on the Mississippi Joel T. Headley 426 

The Siege of Vicksburg Adam Badeau 436 

Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge* Thomas B. Van Horne . . . 452 

Pickett's Charge at Gettysburg Comte de Paris 467 

Sherman's March to the Sea AVilliam T. Sherman .... 482 

The Last March of Lee's Army Armistead L. Long .... 500 

Review of Recent History Charles Morris 520 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PART I. 

COLORED PLATES. 



Reception of Columbus by Ferdinand and Isabella 

Frontispiece. 
Penn's Treaty with the Indians page 199 

PLATES. PAGE 

Ruins, Canon of Mangos 33 

mThe Landing of Columbus 61 

.The Landing of the Pilgrims 150 

"jThe First Battle with the Iroquois 180 

A Dutch Interior . 192 

■'The Oldest House in Germantown 202 

Puritans GOING to Church 226 

The Death of King Philip 231 

vRuiNS OF THE OlD ChURCH-ToWER AT Jamestown .... 271 

■'Oglethorpe and the Indian Chiefs 285 

"The Assault on Quebec 364 

The Stamp-Act Riot at Boston » ■ • 409 

House where the Tea-Plot was Hatched 435 

The British Retreat from Concord 448 

Reading the Declaration to the People 493 



PART II. 

COLORED PLATES. 

George Washington Frontispiece. 

■Washington Crossing the Delaware page 32 



xii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PLATES. 

\ PAGE 

'Sergeant Jasper recovers the Flag 19 

Washington's Head-Quarters at Morristown 37 

■ Bridge Crossed by Washington's Army 39 

'An American Kifleman 51 

The Flight of Arnold 115 

'The House where Cornwallis Surrendered 134 

Independence Hall, Philadelphia 150 

The Capitol at Washington 190 

Horseshoe Canon 199 

Surrender of the Officers of the "Chesapeake" . . 216 

The Battle of New Orleans 282 

Osceola, the Seminole Chief 329 

Early Home of Lincoln 374 

vFoRT Sumter in Ruins 381 

v'Antietam Creek 398 

A Eailroad Battery 488 

A Monitor and a Blockade-Runner 505 



PART I. 

COLONIAL AMERICA, 



DECISIVE EVENTS • 

IN THE STORY OF THE 

GREAT REPUBLIC. 



• 

SECTION I. 



THE PERIOD BEFORE COLUMBUS. 



ON THE ORIGIN OF THE AMERICANS. 

HUBERT H, BANCROFT. 

[The written history of America begins with the year 1492, the date 
of the first voyage of Columbus to its previously-unknown shores. 
Yet there pertains to the preceding period a considerable variety of 
interesting material of a semi-historical character, — in part traditional, 
legendary, and speculative, in part based on researches into the lan- 
guages, race-characteristics, customs, and antiquities of the American, 
aborigines. Some attention to the abundant literature relating to this 
earlier epoch seems desirable as a preface to the recent history of 
America. This literature is in no proper sense American history , yet 
it is all we know of the existence of man upon this continent during 
the ages preceding the close of the fifteenth century. It is far too 
voluminous, and, as a rule, too speculative, to be dealt with otherwise 
than very briefly, yet it cannot properly be ignored in any work on 
the history of the American continent. The more speculative portion 
of this literature has been fully and ably treated by Hubert H. Ban- 
croft, in his "Native Kaces of the Pacific States," from which we 

9 



10 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Baxcrofi 

make our opening Half-Hour selection, lack of space, however, forbid- 
ding us from giving more than some brief extracts from his extended 
treatise on the subject.] 

When it first became known to Europe that a new 
continent had been discovered, the wise men, philosophers, 
and especially the learned ecclesiastics, were sorely per- 
plexed to account for such a discovery. A problem was 
placed before them, the solution of which was not to be 
found in the records of the ancients. On the contrary, it 
seemed that old-time traditions must give way, the infal- 
libility of revealed knowledge must be called in question, 
even the Holy Scriptures must be interpreted anew. 
Another world, upheaved, as it were, fro^ the depths of 
the sea of darkness, was suddenly placed before them. 
Strange races, speaking strange tongues, peopled the new 
land ; curious plants covered its surface ; animals unknown 
to science roamed through its immense forests ; vast seas 
separated it from the known world ; its boundaries were 
undefined ; its whole character veiled in obscurity. Such 
was the mystery that, without rule or precedent, they 
were now required to fathom. . . . 

When, therefore, the questions arose, whence were these 
new lands peopled? how came these strange animals and 
plants to exist on a continent cut off by vast oceans from 
the rest of the world? the wise men of the time unhesi- 
tatingly turned to the Sacred Scriptures for an answer. 
These left them no course but to believe that all mankind 
were descended from one pair. This was a premise that 
must by no means be disputed. The original home of the 
first pair was generally supposed to have been situated in 
Asia Minor ; the ancestors of the people found in the New 
World must consequently have originally come from the 
Old World, though at what time and by what route was 
an open question, an answer to which was diligently sought 



Banckoft] on the origin OF THE AMERICANS. 11 

for both in the sacred prophecies and in the historical 
writings of antiquity. . . . 

Noah's ark, says XJlloa, gave rise to a number of such 
constructions, and the experience gained during the patri- 
arch's aimless voj^age emboldened his descendants to seek 
strange lands in the same manner. Driven to America 
and the neighboring islands by winds and currents, they 
found it difficult to return, and so remained and peopled 
the land. He thinks the custom of eating raw fish at the 
present day among some American tribes was acquired 
during these long sea-voyages. That they came by sea is 
evident, for the north — if indeed the continent be connected 
with the Old World — must be impassable by reason of 
extreme cold. Ulloa, though he would not for a moment 
allow that there could have been more than one general 
creation, does not attempt to account for the presence of 
strange animals and plants in America ; and I may observe 
here that this difficulty is similarly avoided by all writers 
of his class. Lescarbot cannot see why " Noah should 
have experienced any difficulty in reaching America by 
sea, when Solomon's ships made voyages lasting three 
3'ears." Yillagutierre, on the contrary, thinks it more 
probable that Noah's sons came to America by land ; an 
opinion also held by Thompson, who believes, however, 
that the continents were not disconnected until some time 
after the flood, by which time America was peopled fi'om 
the Old World. 

[Many other writers have advocated this theory, basing their belief 
on the numerous deluge-myths which exist among the traditions of 
the American tribes, and which bear a certain resemblance to the 
Biblical story of the deluge, even in some cases describing the subse- 
quent building of a tower of refuge, and the disconcertion of the 
buildei-s in their impious act by the gods, or by the Great Spirit. Yet 
most modern writers consider these myths to have been of local origin. | 



12 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Bancroft 

Let us now turn from these wild speculations, with 
which volumes might be filled, but which are practically 
worthless, to the special theories of origin, which are, 
however, for the most part, scarcely more satisfactory. 

Beginning with eastern Asia, we find that the Ameri- 
cans, or in some instances their civilization only, are sup- 
jDOsed to have come originally from China, Japan, India, 
Tartary, Polynesia. Three principal routes are proposed 
by which they may have come, — namely, Bering Strait, 
the Aleutian Islands, and Polynesia. The route taken by 
no means depends upon the original habitat of the immi- 
grants : thus, the people of India may have immigrated to 
the north of Asia, and grossed Bering Strait, or the Chi- 
nese may have passed from one to^he other of the Aleu- 
tian Islands until they reached the western continent. 
Bering Strait is, however, the most widely advocated, and 
perhaps most probable, line of communication. The nar- 
row strait would hardly hinder any migration either east 
or west, especially as it is frequently frozen over in winter. 
At all events, it is certain that from time immemorial con- 
stant intercourse has been kept up between the natives 
on either side of the strait ; indeed, there can be no doubt 
that they are one and the same people. Several writers, 
however, favor the Aleutian route. . . . 

The theory that America was peoj)led, or at least partly 
peopled, from eastern Asia, is certainly more widely ad- 
vocated than any other, and, in my opinion, is moreover 
based upon a more reasonable and logical foundation than 
any other. It is true, the Old "World may have been 
originally peopled from the iN'ew, and it is also true that 
the Americans may have had an autochthonic origin; but, 
if we must suppose that they have originated on another 
continent, then it is to Asia that we must first look for 
proofs of such an origiri, at least so far as the people of 



Bancroft] ON THE OHIO IN OF THE AMERICANS. 13 

northwestern America are concerned. " It appears most 
evident to me," says the learned Humboldt, "that the 
monuments, methods of computing time, systems of cos- 
mogony, and many myths of America, offer striking anal- 
ogies with the ideas of eastern Asia, — analogies which in- 
dicate an ancient communication, and are not simply the 
result of that uniform condition in which all nations are 
found in the dawn of civilization." 

[Closely similar opinions are expressed by Prescott, Dr. Wilson, 
Colonel Smith, Dupaix, Tschudi, Gallatin, and other writers. In ad- 
dition to the theory of a Chinese settlement in the fifth century, 
which we shall consider subsequently, there are theories of Mongol 
and Japanese settlement.] 

In the thirteenth century the Mongol emperor Kublai 
Khan sent a formidable armament against Japan. The 
expedition failed, and the fleet was scattered by a violent 
tempest. Some of the ships, it is said, were cast upon 
the coast of Peru, and their crews are supposed to have 
founded the mighty empire of the Incas, conquered three 
centuries later by Pizarro. Mr. John Eanking, who leads 
the van of theorists in this direction, has written a goodly 
volume upon this subject, which certainly, if read by 
itself, ought to convince the reader as satisfactorily that 
America was settled by Mongols, as Kingsborough's work 
that it was reached by the Jews, or Jones's argument that 
the Tyrians had a hand in its civilization. That a Mongol 
fleet was sent against Japan, and that it was dispersed by 
a storm, is matter of history ; but that any of the dis- 
tressed shijjs were driven upon the coast of Peru can be 
but mere conjecture, since no news of such an arrival ever 
reached Asita. . . . 

A Japanese origin, or at least a strong infusion of Jap- 
anese blood, has been attributed to the tribes of the north- 
west coast. There is nothing improbable in this ; indeed, 
I. 2 



14 AMERICAN HISTORY^ [Bancroft 

there is every reason to believe that on various occasions 
small parties of Japanese have reached the American con- 
tinent, have married the women of the country', and 
necessarily left the impress of their ideas and physical 
peculiarities upon their descendants. Probably these vis- 
its were all, without exception, accidental ; but that they 
have occurred in great numbers is certain. There have 
been a great many instances of Japanese junks drifting 
upon the American coast, many of them after having 
floated helplessly about for many months. Mr. Brooks 
gives forty-one particular instances of such wrecks, be- 
ginning in 1782, twenty-eight of which date since 1850. 
Only twelve of the whole number were deserted. In a 
majority of cases the survivors remained permanently at 
the place where the waves had brought them. There is 
DO record in existence of a Japanese woman having been 
saved from a wreck. The reasons for the jDresence of 
Japanese and the absence of Chinese junks are simple. 
There is a current of cold water setting from the Arctic 
Ocean south along the east coast of Asia, which drives all 
the Chinese wrecks south. The Kuro Siwo, or "black 
stream," commonly known as the Japan current, runs 
northward past the eastern coast of the Japan Islands, 
then curves round to the east and south, sweeping the 
whole west coast of North Amei'ica, a branch, or eddy, 
moving towards the Sandwich Islands. A drifting wreck 
would be carried towards the American coast at an average 
rate of ten miles a day by this current. . . . 

We may now consider that theory which supposes the 
civilized peoples of America to be of Eg^^ptian origin, 
or, at least, to have derived their arts and culture from 
Egypt, This supposition is based mainly on certain anal- 
ogies which have been thought to exist between the ar- 
chitecture, hieroglyphics, methods of computing time, and, 



Bancroft] ON THE ORIGIN OF THE AMERICANS. 15 

to a less extent, customs of the two countries. Few of 
these analogies will, however, bear close investigation, and. 
even where they will, they can hardly be said to prove 
Hnything. . . . 

Turning now to western Asia, we find the honor of first 
settling America given to the adventurous Phoenicians. 
The sailors of Carthage are also supposed by some writers 
to have first reached the New World ; but, as the exploits 
of colony and mother-country are spoken of by most 
writers in the same breath, it will be the simplest plan 
to combine the two theories here. They are based on the 
fame of these people as colonizing navigators more than 
upon any actual resemblances that have been found to 
exist between them and the Americans. It is argued 
that their ships sailed beyond the Pillars of Hercules to 
the Canary Islands, and that such adventurous explorers 
having reached that point would be sure to seek farther. 
The records of their voyages and certain passages in the 
works of several of the writers of antiquity are supposed 
to show that the ancients knew of a land lying in the far 
west. . . . 

Diodorus Siculus relates that the Phoenicians discov- 
ered a large island in the Atlantic Ocean, beyond the Pil- 
lars of Hercules, several days' journey from the coast of 
Africa. This island abounded in all manner of riches. 
The soil was exceedingly fertile ; the scenery was diver- 
sified bj^ rivers, mountains, and forests. It was the cus- 
tom of the inhabitants to retire during the summer to 
magnificent country-houses, which stood in the midst of 
beautiful gardens. Fish and game were found in great 
abundance. The climate was delicious, and the trees 
bore fruit at all seasons of the year. The Phoenicians 
discovered this fortunate island by accident, being driven 
upon its coast by contrary winds. On their return they 



16 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Bancroft 

gave glowing accounts of its beauty and fertility, and 
the Tyrians, who were also noted sailors, desired to col- 
onize it. 

[Several authors have believed these " Fortunate Islands" to be 
America, but in all probability they were the Canary Islands.] 

The theory that the Americans are of Jewish descent 
has been discussed more minutely and at greater length 
than any other. Its advocates, or at least those of them 
who have made original researches, are comparatively 
few ; but the extent of their investigations, and the multi- 
tude of parallelisms they adduce in support of their hy- 
pothesis, exceed by far any we have yet encountered. 

Of the earlier writers on this subject, Garcia is the 
most voluminous. Of modern theorists. Lord Kingsbor- 
ough stands pre-eminently first, as far as bulky volumes 
are concerned ; though Adair, who devotes half of a thick 
quarto to the subject, is by no means second to him in 
enthusiasm — or rather fanaticism — and wild speculation. 

[The idea advanced is that America was settled by the ten lost 
tribes of Israel, in support of which a multitude of similarities be- 
tween American and Jewish customs and characteristics are adduced, 
yet none of them sufficient to influence any cool-headed critic] 

We now come to the theory that the Americans, or at 
least part of them, are of Celtic origin. In the old 
"Welsh annals there is an account of a voyage made in the 
latter half of the twelfth century by one Madoc, a son of 
Owen Grwynedd, prince of North Wales. The story goes, 
that after the death of Gwynedd his sons contended vio- 
lently for the sovereignty. 'Madoc, who was the only 
peaceable one among them, determined to leave his dis- 
turbed country and sail in search of some unknown land 
where he might dwell in peace. He accordingly procured 
an abundance of provisions and a few ships, and embarked 



Baxcroft] on the origin OF THE AMERICANS. 17 

with his friends and followers. For many months they 
sailed westward without finding a resting-place ; but at 
length they came to a large and fertile country, where, 
after sailing for some distance along the coast in search 
of a convenient landing-place, they disembarked and per- 
manently settled. After a time Madoe, with part of his 
companj', returned to Wales, where he fitted out ten ships 
with all manner of supplies, prevailed on a large number 
of bis countrymen to join him, and once more set sail for 
the new colony, which, though we hear no more about 
him or his settlement, he is supposed to have reached 
safely. . . . 

Claims have also been put in for an Irish discovery of 
the New World. St. Patrick is said to have sent mission- 
aries to the " Isles of America," and early writers have 
gravely discussed the probability of Quetzalcoatl [the 
Mexican white deity] having been an Irishman. There 
is no great improbability that the natives of Ireland may 
have reached, by accident or otherwise, the northeastern 
shores of the new continent in very early times, but there 
is certainly no evidence to prove that they did. 

[The evidences in favor of the several theories described by Mr. 
Bancroft, as presented by the many writers upon these subjects, are 
given by him in considerable detail, and their probability discussed, 
with the final conclusion that none of the theorists have succeeded in 
proving that the Americans were of Old- World origin, and that " no 
one at the present day can tell the origin of the Americans : they may 
have come from any one or from all the hypothetical sources enumer- 
ated in the foregoing pages, and here the question must rest until we 
have more light upon the subject." 

A brief reference to the Atlantis theory, omitted in our extract 
from Bancroft, is here in place. The story of a land that formerly lay 
in or beyond the Atlantic, and was subsequenth' submerged, is men- 
tioned by several Greek writers, and is said by Plutarch to have been 
communicated to Solon by the priests of several Egyptian cities. Ac- 
i.—l> 2* 



18 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Williams 

cording to Plato, these priests declared that the events related to Solon 
had taken place nine thousand Egyptian j^ears previously. In the 
Platonic version the priestly story was to the effect that beyond the 
Pillars of Hercules there was an island larger than Asia Minor and 
Libya combined. From this island one coifld pass to other islands, 
and thence to a continent which surrounded the sea containing them. 
In the island of Atlantis reigned three powerful kings, whose dominion 
extended to some of the other islands and to part of the continent, and 
reached at one time into Africa and Europe. Uniting their forces, 
they invaded eastern Europe, but were defeated and their army de- 
stroyed by the Athenians, independence being gained by all the subject 
countries east of the Pillars of Hercules. Afterwards, in one day and 
night, earthquakes and inundations overwhelmed Atlantis and sunk it 
Beneath the sea, which became impassable on account of the mud 
which the sunken island left in its place. 

The theory that there actually existed such an island, extending to 
the vicinity of, or perhaps continuous with, the American continent, 
has been held by several writers, principal among them being the 
Abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg. The recent advocacy of the theory is 
based on the fact that traditions and written records of cataclysms 
similar to that described by the Egyptian priests have been found 
among the American nations. Yet the story is in all probability one 
of those fabulous statements of which many can be found in the works 
of ancient writers.] 



THE KINGDOM OF FU-SANG. 

S. AVELLS AYILLIAMS. 
(Teanslation.) 

[In addition to the speculative theories above described are two his- 
torical documents of considerably more value, one given in the Chinese 
annals, and one in the Scandinavian literature, which appear to point to 
discoveries of America centuries before the era of Columbus, first by 
the Chinese, afterwards by the Northmen. 

The argument of several writers, that the Chinese discovered Amer- 
ica early in the Christian era, is based upon a curious historical state- 



Williams] THE KINGDOM OF FU-SANG. 19 

ment in the works of Ma Twan-lin, one of the most notable of Chi- 
nese historians. It is professedly an extract from the official records 
of China, embracing a traveller's tale told in the year 499 a.d. by a 
Buddhist priest named Hwui Shin, on his return from ajournej'he 
had made to a country lying far to the east. This story seems to have 
been considered of sufficient importance to be recorded by the impe- 
rial historiographer, from whom Ma Twan-lin copied it. It describes 
tlie people and natural conditions of a country known as Fu-sang, and 
has given rise to considerable controversy, some writers asserting that 
Japan was the country visited, others claiming this honor for America. 
The literature of the subject is summed up in E. P. Vining's "An 
Inglorious Columbus," a recent work, in which the Chinese record is 
exhaustively reviewed, and the balance of proof shown to incline 
towards the American theory. 

Of the various translations of the Chinese record we present that of 
Professor S. Wells Williams, prefacing it with the statement of Li- 
yan-tcheou, the original historian, that in order to reach this distant 
country one must set out from the coast of the Chinese province of 
Leao-tong, to the north of Peking, reaching Japan after a journey of 
twelve thousand li. Thence a voyage of seven thousand li northward 
brings one to the country of Wen-shin. Five thousand li eastward 
from this place lies the country of Ta-han. From the latter place 
Fu-sang may be reached after a further voyage of twenty thousand li. 
(The li is a variable measure, ordinarily given as about one-third of a 
mile in length.)] 

In the first year of the reign Yung-yuen of the emperor 
Tung Hwan-hau, of the Tsi dynasty (a.d. 499), a Shaman 
priest named Hwui Shin arrived at King-chau from the 
Kingdom of Fu-sang. He related as follows : 

Fu-sang lies east of the Kingdom of Ta-han more than 
twenty thousand li ; it is also east of the Middle Kingdom 
[China]. It produces many fu-sang trees, from which it 
derives its name. The leaves of the fu-sang resemble 
those of the tung tree. It sprouts forth like the bamboo, 
and the people eat the shoots. Its fruit resembles the 
pear, but is red ; the bark is spun into cloth for dresses, 
and woven into brocade. The houses arc made of planks. 



20 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Williams 

There are no walled cities with gates. The (people) ui^e 
chai'acters and writing, making paper from the bark of 
ih.Q fu-sang . There are no mailed soldiers, for they do not 
carry on war. The law of the land prescribes a southern 
and a northern prison. Ci-iminals convicted of light 
crimes are put into the former, and those guilty of griev- 
ous oflfences into the latter. Criminals, when pardoned, 
are let out of the southern prison ; but those in the north- 
ern prison are not pardoned. Prisoners in the latter 
marry. Their boys become bondmen when eight j^ears 
old, and the girls bondwomen when nine years old. Con- 
victed prisoners are not allowed to leave their prison 
while alive. When a nobleman (or an official) has been 
convicted of crime, the great assembly of the nation 
meets and places the criminal in a hollow (or pit) ; the}' 
set a feast, with wine, before him, and then take leave of 
him. If the sentence is a capital one, at the time they 
separate they surround (the body) with ashes. For 
crimes of the first grade, the sentence involves only the 
person of the culprit ; for the second, it reaches the chil- 
dren and grandchildren; while the third extends to the 
seventh generation. 

The king of this country is termed yueh-ki ; the highest 
rank of nobles is called tui-li ; the next, little tui-li ; and 
the lowest, no-cha-sha. When the king goes abroad he is 
preceded and followed by drummers and trumpeters. The 
color of his robes varies with the years in the cycle 
containing the ten stems. It is azure in the first two 
years ; in the second two years it is red ; it is yellow in 
the third ; white in the fourth ; and black in the last two 
years. There are oxen with long horns, so long that 
they will hold things, — the biggest as much as five pecks. 
Vehicles are drawn by oxen, horses, and deer; for the 
people of that land rear deer just as the Chinese rear 



Williams] THE KINGDOM OF FUSANG. 21 

cattle, and make cream of their milk. They have red 
pears, which will keep a year without spoiling; water- 
rushes and peaches are common. Iron is not found in 
the ground, though copper is ; they do not prize gold or 
silver, and trade is conducted without rent, duty, or fixed 
prices. 

In matters of marriage it is the law that the [intend- 
ing] son-in-law must erect a hut before the door of the 
girl's house, and must sprinkle and sweep the place morn- 
ing and evening for a whole year. If she then does not 
like him, she bids him depart ; but if she is pleased with 
him they are married. The bridal ceremonies are for the 
most part like those of China. A fast of seven days is 
observed for parents at their death ; five for grandparents ; 
and three days for brothers, sisters, uncles, or aunts. 
Images to represent their spirits are set up, before which 
they worship and pour out libations morning and evening; 
but they wear no mourning or fillets. The successor of 
the king does not attend personally to government affairs 
for the first three years. In olden times they knew 
nothing of the Buddhist religion, but during the reign 
Ta-ming of the emperor Hiao Wu-ti of the Lung dynasty 
(a.d. 458), from Ki-piu five beggar priests went there. 
They travelled over the kingdom, everywhere making 
known the laws, canons, and images of that faith. Priests 
of regular ordination were set apart among the natives, 
and the customs of the country became reformed. 

[In addition to this statement, the Chinese annals contain an account 
of the " Kingdom of Women," of the " Great Han country," and of 
the " Land of Marked (or Tattooed) Bodies," all related in situation to 
Fu-sang. That given, however, is the most matter-of-fact of these sev- 
eral narratives, and appears to describe an actual country, though its 
details do not tally very closely with the known conditions of either 
Japan or Mexico, which hitter country is believed by Mr. Yining to 



22 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Weisb 

be the true Eu-sang. In his view the maguey represents the fu-sang 
tree, and he brings many analogies to bear in favor of his theorj', 
though the actual location of Fu-sang, like those of Atlantis, the 
Fortunate Islands, and Vinland, must always remain a matter of 
doubt and controversy.] 



DISCOVERY OF AMERICA BY THE NORTHMEN. 

ARTHUR J. WEISE. 
(Tkanslation.) 

[In considering the reputed discovery of America by the North- 
men we stand upon much firmer ground, and the story, though it has 
not been without dispute, is accepted by many writers as describing 
an actual event. In fact, it is of high probability on its face, since the 
daring navigators who successively sailed to and colonized Iceland 
and Greenland might very easily have made a farther voyage to the 
American continent. 

The Scandinavian vikings, in their single-masted, many-oared gal- 
leys, often ventured far out on the waters of the Atlantic, and in the 
year 860, Naddoddr, one of these .Norse pirates, was blown by an 
adverse wind upon the coast of Iceland. In 876 another navigator, 
driven beyond Iceland by a storm, saw in the distance the coast of 
an unknown land. About the year 981, Eric the Ked, an Icelandic 
outlaw, sailed in search of this land, and discovered a new country, 
which he named Greenland as an inducement to immigrants. 

The sagas or written legends of Iceland, which describe these events, 
relate that subsequent to the discovery of Greenland the vikings 
made frequent voyages to the south, to a land which had been discov- 
ered there by one Bjarni, and which received the name of Vinland. 
Some writers consider these stories as too vague and mythical to be of 
any value, while others accept them as containing definite and trust- 
worthy information concerning the eastern coast of America at that 
date. This new land is said to have been first discovered by Bjarni in 
985, during a voyage from Iceland to Greenland. We select from 
"The Discoveries of America to the year 1525," by Ai-thur James 



Weise] discovery OF AMERICA BY NORTHMEN. 23 

Weise, a translation of some of the more significant portions of these 
sagas.] 

As soon as they had fitted for the voyage, they intrusted 
themselves to the ocean, and made sail three days, until 
the land passed out of their sight from the water. But 
then the bearing breezes ceased to blow, and northern 
breezes and a fog succeeded. Then they were drifted 
about for many days and nights, not knowing whither 
they tended. After this the light of the sun was seen, 
and they were able to survey the regions of the sky. 
Now they carried sail, and steered this day before they 
beheld land. . . . [They] soon saw that the country was 
not mountainous, but covered with trees and diversified 
with little hills. . . . Then they sailed two days before 
they saw another land (or region). . . . They then ap- 
proached it, and saw that it was level and covered with 
trees. Then, the favorable wind having ceased blowing, 
the sailors said that it seemed to them that it would be 
well to land there, but Bjarni was unwilling to do so. . . . 
He bade them make sail, which was done. They turned 
the prow from the land, and sailed out into the ojjen sea, 
where for three daj's they had a favorable south-south- 
west wind. They saw a third land (or region), but it 
was high and mountainovis and covered with glaciei'S. . . . 
They did not lower sail, but holding their course along 
the shore they found it to be an island. Again they 
turned the stern against the land, and made sail for the 
high sea, having the same wind, which gradually increas- 
ing, Bjarni ordered the sails to be shortened, forbidding 
the use of more canvas than the ship and her outfit could 
conveniently bear. Thus they sailed for four days, when 
they saw a fourth land [which proved to be Greenland]. 

[The second voyage to this newly-discovered region was made by 



24 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Weise 

Leif, the son of Eric the Ked, about the year 1000. He first reached 
a land of icy mountains, with a plain between the mountains and the 
sea covered with flat stones. This region Leif named Helluland. 
Afterwards he reached a level country covered with trees, which 
he named Markland.] 

[Leaving Markland] they sailed on the high sea, hav- 
ing a northeast wind, and were two days at sea befoi'e 
they saw land. They steered towards it. and touched the 
inland lying before the north part of the land. When 
they went on land they surveyed it. for by good fortune 
the weather was serene. They found the grass sprinkled 
with dew, and it happened by chance that they touched 
the dew with their hands and carried them to their 
mouths and perceived that it had a sweet taste which 
they had not before noticed. Then they returned to the 
ship and sailed through a bay lying between the island 
and a tongue of land running towards the north. Steering 
a course to the west shore, they passed the tongue of land. 
Here when the tide ebbed there were very narrow shoals. 
"When the ship got aground there were shallows of great 
extent between the vessel and the receded sea. So great 
was the desire of the men to go on land that they were 
unwilling to stay on board until the returning tide floated 
the ship. They went ashoi-e at a place where a river 
flowed out from a lake. When the tide floated the ship 
they took the boat and rowed to the vessel and brought 
her into the river and then into the lake. Here they 
anchored, carried the luggage from the ship, and built 
dwellings. Afterwards they held a consultation and re- 
solved to remain at this place during the winter. They 
erected large buildings. There were not onl}^ many 
salmon in the river, but also in the lake, and of a larger 
size than the}" had before seen. So great was the fertil- 
ity of the soil that they were led to believe that cattle 



Weise] discovery OF AMERICA BY NORTHMEN. 25 

would not be in want of food during winter, or that 
wintrj^ coldness would prevail, or the grass wither much. 

[During the winter one of the men, named Tyrker, exploring the 
country, discovered wine-wood and wine-berries [vinvid ok vinbe?'). 
On the approach of spring they spent some time in gathering wine- 
berries and loading the ship with wood, after which they set sail for 
Greenland, Leif naming the region Vinland (Wine-land), from its 
productions. 

In the spring of 1007 an expedition comprising three ships sailed 
for this new land. In two days they reached Helluland, and in two 
more Markland. Departing from Markland, they continued their 
voyage.] 

The}" then bailed far to the southward along the coast, 
and came to a promontory. The land lay on the right, 
and had a long sandy beach. They rowed to it, and 
found on a tongue of land the keel of a ship. They 
called this point Kjlarnes (Keel Cape), and the beach 
Furdustrandir (Long Strand), for it took a long time to 
sail by it. Then the coast became sinuous. They then 
steered the ship into an inlet. King Olaf Tryggvason had 
given Leif two Scotch people, a man named Haki and a 
woman named Hekja. The}^ were swifter than animals. 
. . . When they had sailed past Furdustrandir they put 
these Scots ashore and ordered them to run to the south 
of the country and explore it and return within three 
days. . . . They Avere absent the designated time. When 
they returned, one brought a bunch of wine-berries, the 
other an ear of wheat. When they were taken on board 
the ship sailed farther. They came into a bay where 
there was an island around which flowed rapid currents 
that suggested the name which they gave it, Straumey 
(Stream Island). There were so many eider ducks on 
the island that one could hardly walk about without 
stepping on their eggs. They took the cargo from the 

I.— B 3 



26 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Weise 

ship and made preparations to stay there. They had with 
them different kinds of cattle. 

It is now to be told of Karlsefne that he, with Snorro 
and Bjarni and their people, sailed southward along the 
coast. They sailed a long time, till they came to a river 
which ran out from the land and through a lake into 
the sea. The river was quite shallow, and no ship could 
enter it w^ithout high water. Karlsefne sailed with his 
peojjle into its mouth, and called the place Hop. He 
found fields of wild wheat where the ground was low, 
and wine-wood where it was higher. There was a great 
number of all kinds of wild animals in the woods. They 
remained at this place a half month, and enjoyed them- 
selves, but did not find anything novel. They had their 
cattle with them. Early one morning, when they were 
viewing the country, they saw a great number of skin 
boats on the sea. . . . The people in them rowed nearer 
and with curiosity gazed at them. . . . These people were 
swart and ugly, and had coarse hair, large eyes, and 
broad cheeks. They remained a short time and watched 
Karlsefne's people. They then rowed away to the south- 
ward beyond the cape. 

[In the spring the natives returned and trafficked with the Noi'th- 
men.] 

The people prefen'ed red cloth, and for this they gave 
skins and all kinds of furs. They also wanted to pur- 
chase swords and spears, but Karlsefne and Snorro would 
not sell them any weapons. For a whole skin the Skrae- 
lings took a piece of red cloth a span long, and bound it 
arouTid their heads. In this way they bartered for a time. 
Then the cloth began to diminish, and Karlsefne and his 
men cut it into small strips not wider than one's finger, 



Weise] discovery OF AMERICA BY NORTHMEN. 27 

and still the Skraelings gave as much for these as they 
had for the larger pieces, and often more. It happened 
that a bull, which Karlsefne had with him, ran out from 
the wood and bellowed loudly. This frightened the 
Skraelings so much that they rushed to their boats and 

rowed away to the southward around the coast. 

♦ 

[Three weeks afterwai'ds a large number of Skraelings returned in 
their boats, uttering loud cries.] 

Karlsefne's men took a red shield and held it towards 
them. The Skraelings leaped from their boats and at- 
tacked them. Many missiles fell among them, for the 
Skraelings used slings. Karlsefne's men saw that they 
had raised on a pole something resembling an air-filled 
bag of a blue color. They hurled this at Karlsefne's 
party, and when it fell to the ground it exploded with a 
loud noise. This frightened Karlsefne and his men so 
much that they ran and fell back to the river, for it 
seemed to them that the Skraelings were enclosing them 
on all sides. They did not stop till they reached a rocky 
place, where they stoutly resisted their assailants. 

[The Skraelings were finally frightened ofl' by the valiant behavior 
of Freydis, the wife of Thorvard.] 

Karlsefne and his men now perceived that, notwith- 
standing the country was fruitful, they would be exposed 
to many dangerous incursions of its inhabitants if they 
should remain in it. They therefore determined to de- 
part and return to their own land. 

[Many subsequent visits were made by the Northmen to Vinland, 
these continuing as late as the fourteenth century. But they seem 
to have made no efi"ort to colonize this region as they had done in the 
cases of Iceland and Greenland. Just where Vinland was situated is 
one of those geographical pi-oblems that will probably never be settled. 



28 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

Some writers place it as far south as the coast of Khode Ishmd. 
Others conceive it to be no farther south than Labrador, or possibly 
south Greenland. The description of the Skraelings is considered to 
apply more closely to the Esquimaux than to the North American 
Indians. Whether the so-called wine-berries were actually grapes is 
questionable. In fact, no positive proof exists that the Northmen dis- 
covered the continent of America. The balance of probabilities is 
that they did so, though how far south their excursions extended can 
never be definitely decided.] 



THE ABORIGINES OF AMERICA. 

CHARLES MOERIS. 

[The preceding pages have been devoted to the history of the rela- 
tions between the inhabitants of the Eastern and "Western Continents, 
and to the various statements that indicate a possible knowledge of, and 
voj^ages to, America in the era before Columbus. To complete this 
preliminary survey a brief account of what is known of the Ameri- 
can aborigines in this early era is necessary. In relation to this period 
of American history there exists an abundance of literary material, 
comprising researches into the languages, race-conditions, customs, an- 
tiquities, traditions, and manuscript annals of the tribes and nations 
of the aborigines. None of this material is historical in the full sense 
of the term, though much of it may be considered as indirectly so. 
The editor of this work, however, has been unable to meet with any 
general statement in a form sufficiently condensed to yield a brief yet 
comprehensive review of the whole subject. He has, therefore, him- 
self prepared a paper which may serve imperfectly to fill this vacancy, 
and to complete the examination of the history of America prior to 
Columbus.] 

On the discovery and exploration of America it was 
found to be everywhere inhabited, from the north polar 
region to the extreme south, by peoples differing in de- 
gree of culture from abject savagery to a low stage of 



Morris] THE ABORIGINES OF AMERICA. 29 

civilization. Though at first all these peoples were looked 
uj)on as members of a single race, later research has ren- 
dered this questionable, marked diversities in ethnological 
character having been perceived. In language a greater 
unity appears, philologists generally holding that the 
American languages all belong to one family of human 
speech, though the dialects differ widely in character and 
in degree of development. The American languages ap- 
proach in type those of northern Asia, though not very 
closely. The same may be said of the American features. 
Yet if the Americans and Mongolians were originally of 
the same race, as seems not improbable, their separation 
must have taken place at a remote period, to judge from 
the diversities which now exist between them. 

The aboriginal inhabitants of the United States, when 
first discovered, differed very considerably in political and 
social condition. Those of the north were in a state 
of savagely or low barbarism. The southern Indians 
were much more advanced politically, while the Natchez 
people of the lower Mississippi possessed a well-organized 
despotic monarchy, widely different in character from the 
Institutions of the free ti'ibes of the north. In Mexico 
existed a powerful civilized empire, despotic in charactei', 
possessed of many historical traditions, and having an 
extensive literature, which was nearly all destroyed by 
the Spanish conquerors. In this region were tw^o distinct 
linguistic races, the l^ahuas of Mexico and the Mayas of 
the more southern region. To the latter are due the re- 
markable architectural remains of Yucatan and Guate- 
mala. In South America was also discovered an exten- 
sive civilized empire, of a highly-marked despotic type, — 
the Inca empire of Peru. This rather low form of civil- 
ization extended far to the north and south in the dis- 
trict west of the Andes, while the remainder of South 
I. 3* 



30 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

America was occupied by savage tribes, some of tbem 
exceedingly debased in condition. 

Of late 3^ears it bas been made evident, tbrougb diversi- 
fied arcbffiological discoveries, tbat at some epocb, perhaps 
not very remote, the whole region of the Mississippi Valley 
was the seat of a semi-civilized population, probably some- 
what closely approaching in customs and condition the 
inhabitants of the Gulf States when first seen by the 
Spanish and French explorers. This people had utterly 
vanished from the region of the northern United States 
at the earliest date of the advent of the whites, and per- 
haps many centuries before that era ; yet the whole region 
of their former residence is so abundantly covered with 
their weapons, utensils, ornaments, and architectural re- 
mains, that we are not only positively assured of their 
former existence, but ai'e enabled also to form many con- 
jectures as to their probable history. 

What are here spoken of as architectural remains con- 
sist principally of earth mounds, of considerable diversity 
in character and appearance, and some of them of enor- 
mous dimensions. There is in this fact alone nothing of 
peculiar interest. Earth mounds, generally sepulchral in 
purj^ose, exist widely throughout the older continents. 
But the American mounds are remarkable for their ex- 
cessive numbers, their peculiarities of construction, their 
occasional gi*eat size, and the diversity of their probable 
purpose. They are found abundantly over the whole re- 
gion from the Rocky Mountains to the Alleghanies, and 
from the Great Lakes to the Gulf, and to some small 
extent beyond these limits. In the State of Ohio alone 
there are said to be more than ten thousand mounds, with 
perhaps fifteen hundi-ed defensive works and enclosures. 
About five thousand of them are said to exist within a 
radius of fifty miles from the mouth of the Illinois River, 



Morris] THE ABORIGINES OF AMERICA. 31 

in the State of Illinois. In the South they are equally 
abundant. The Gulf States are full of them. From 
Florida to Texas they everywhere exist, of the greatest 
diversity in size and shape. Smaller examples occur be- 
yond the limits of the region above outlined, though in 
much less abundance. These mounds are usually from 
six to thirty feet high and forty to one hundred in di- 
ameter, though some are much larger. To the vanished 
race to whose labors they are due has been given the 
name of the " Mound-Builders." 

Many of these structures were evidentl}^ erected for de- 
fensive purposes, and they constitute an extensive system 
of earthworks on the hills and river-bluffs, indicating 
a considerable population in the valleys beloAV. Other 
Avorks are remarkably regular earthworks on the valley 
levels, forming enclosures in various geometrical patterns, 
which comj^rise circles, squares, and other figures. The 
purpose of these peculiar enclosures is unknown, though 
it was probably connected with religious observances. 
Of the smaller mounds, some are supposed to have been 
used as altars ; but the most numerous class are the burial- 
mounds, in which skeletons have often been found. In 
Wisconsin, and to some extent elsewhere, are found mounds 
rudely imitating the shape of animals. But the most 
extraordinary of these erections, from their great size and 
the enormous degree of labor which they indicate, are the 
so-called "temple mounds," of which the one at Cahokia, 
Illinois, measures seven hundred by five hundred feet at 
base and ninety feet in perpendicular height. It was 
probably the seat of a temple. Many similar mounds, 
though none so large as this, exist in the Gulf States. 

The mounds contain very numerous relics of the arts 
of their builders, these consisting of various articles of 
pottery, stone pipes of highly-skilful construction, in imi- 



32 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

tation of animal forms, stone implements in great variety, 
ornaments of beaten copper, pearls, plates of mica, frag- 
ments of woven fabrics, and otber articles, indicative of 
much industry and a considerable advance in the simpler 
arts. 

Whether the semi-civilization of this people developed 
in the region in w^hich their remains are found, or is due 
to the northward movement of a civilized people from the 
south, cannot be decided. That they were a numerous 
agricultural people, under the control of a despotic gov- 
ernment, and of strong religious superstitions, seems evi- 
dent from the vast labors which they performed and the 
religious purpose of the greatest of these works. There 
is abundant reason to believe that they were in hostile 
relations with ti'ibes of savages, perhaps the original 
inhabitants of the country, to the northward and east- 
ward. Against the assaults of these the earthworks were 
built. These assaults were finally Successful. The '"Mound- 
Builders" were conquered, and either annihilated or, more 
probably, driven south. It is highly improbable that they 
constituted a single empire, or a series of extensive gov- 
ernments. We may more safely consider them as a con- 
geries of sti'ong tribal organizations, probably to some 
extent mutually hostile, who were weakened by intestine 
wars and conquered piecemeal by their numerous and per- 
sistent savage foes. 

Before considering the political and other relations of 
the northern Indians, some reference may be made to the 
architectural remains of the other aborigines of America. 
Remarkable ruins exist in the mountain-region of the 
west, in parts of Colorado, New Mexico, Utah, Arizona, 
and northern Mexico. Principal among these are the 
Pueblo buildings, huge communistic structures, of sev- 
eral stories in height, and some of them capable of shelter- 



w- '^^ 




'"-z^y^"^ 







RUINS, CASON of MANCOS. 



Morris] THE ABORIGINES OF AMERICA. 33 

ing'a whole tribe within their very numerous apartments 
Of these edifices some are of adobe, others of stone. They 
are probably of considerable antiquity, and most of them 
are in ruins, though several are still inhabited. Still more 
remarkable are the " cliff dwellings," recently discovered 
in the rivei'-caiions of this region. These exist at con- 
siderable heights, occasionally as much as six hundred to 
eight hundred feet, in almost inaccessible situations in per- 
pendicular cliffs, in which they occupy clefts or natural 
terraces. They were doubtless intended as places of 
refuge from dangerous foes, though they occur in locali- 
ties now so barren that it is not easy to perceive how 
their inhabitants obtained subsistence. 

The architectural remains of Mexico, Central America, 
and Peru are far too numerous and important to be 
described in the brief space at our command. Some of the 
more imposing of those of Mexico are pyramidal mounds, 
not unlike the temple mounds of the north, though occa- 
sionally much larger. Of these the most extensive is the 
great pyramid of Cholula, which covers twice the area of 
the great Egyptian pyramid of Cheops. The height is 
variously estimated at one hundred and seventy-seven to 
two hundred and five feet. This huge structure is built 
of small sun-dried bricks, alternated with layers of clay. 
It may have been moulded on a natural eminence, though 
this is doubtful. The temple of the deity Quetzalcoatl, 
which once occupied its summit, was destroyed by the 
Spanish invadei'S. 

In Yucatan, Chiapas, Honduras, and Guatemala have 
been found the ruins of enormous and profusely-sculptured 
stone edifices, built on truncated pyramids, of which that 
of Palenque measures two hundred and sixty by three 
hundred and ten feet, and is forty feet high. Its sides 
were originally faced with cut stone, while the building 
I. — c 



34 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

displays a considerable advance in the arts of architecture 
and sculpture. Numerous other such structures exist, 
which display great boldness and skill in architecture. 
As to who built these forest-buried edifices no positive 
knowledge exists, though there is some reason to believe 
that they were still in use, and surrounded by cities, at 
the epoch of the Spanish conquest. 

With the ruins of Peruvian art we are less directly 
concerned. It will sufiice to remark that they ai^e not 
surpassed in boldness of execution, in the great labor 
indicated, and in practicality of purpose, by any similar 
erections on the Eastern continent. Many of these works 
are very ancient, having been built by a people who occu- 
pied that region anterior to the origin of the Inca empire. 
In this respect they agree with the architectural monu- 
ments of Mexico, which were attributed by the Aztecs to 
the Toltecs, a mythical race who preceded them. All this 
indicates not only a very considerable antiquity in the 
civilization of this continent, but a general overthrow of 
the primary civilizations, the Mound-Builders being re- 
placed by the modern Indian tribes in the north, the 
builders of the Mexican monuments by the more bar- 
barous Aztecs, and the architects of the early works of 
Peru by the conquering Inca race. 

The Indian tribes of the northern United States, at the 
advent of the whites, were found in a state of savagery 
in some particulars, though their political and social in- 
stitutions may be classed as barbarian. Though usually 
considered as hunting tribes, they were in reality largely 
agricultural, and not unlike the ancient Germans in or- 
ganization. They were communistic in habit, holding 
their lands, and to some extent their houses, as common 
property. The tribes were divided into smaller sections 
on the basis of family affinity, and governed by two sets 



Morris] THE ABORIGINES OF AMERICA. 35 

of elected officers, — the war-chiefs, selected for their valor, 
and the Sachems, or peace-officers, whose office was to 
a considerable extent hereditary. In the election of these 
officers the whole tribe took part, women as well as men 
having a vote. The religion of these tribes was of a low 
type, being a Shamanism of the same character as that 
of the Mongolian tribes of northern Asia. Demon-exor- 
cising "medicine-men" wei-e the priests of the tribes, and 
the conception of a supreme '' Great Spirit," which has 
been attributed to them, was possibly derived from early 
intercourse with the whites, though it may have been an 
inheritance from the Mound-Builders. 

The Indians of the southern United States, comprising 
the Creek confederacy and other tribes, were considerably 
more advanced in institutions and ideas. With them 
agriculture had attained an important development, and 
the lands were divided into fields on a communistic basis, 
they remaining the property of the tribe, though culti- 
vated by separate families. The government was in the 
hands of a council of the principal chiefs, presided over 
by an officer called the Mico, corresponding to the Sachem 
of the north. His dignity was hereditary, and his power 
to some extent despotic. Warlike matters were controlled 
by a head chief, under whom were inferior chiefs. These 
chiefs were elected to their positions, and composed the 
council presided over by the Mico, whose authority was 
subject to their control. One peculiar feature of the 
Creek organization was the possession of a public store- 
house, in which a portion of all products of the field and 
the chase had to be stored, for general distribution in case 
of need. This was under the sole control of the Mico. 

The religious ideas were much superior to those of the 
northern tribes. Shamanistic worshij^ and the medicine-man 
existed, but in addition to this there was a well-developed 



36 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

system of sun-worship, with its temples, priests, and cere- 
monies. The sacred fire was preserved with the greatest 
assiduity, and when extinguished at the close of each year, 
to be rekindled with " new fire," serious calamities were 
feared. The Mico was looked upon as a high dignitary in 
this worship, and as, in some sort, a representative of the 
sun. The degree of despotism which he exercised was 
very probably in great measure due to this religious dig- 
nity and the superstition of the people. 

But the most remarkable of the Indians of the United 
States was the small tribe of the Natchez, occupying a 
few villages east of the Mississippi at the period of Span- 
ish and French discovery, and long since extinct. The lan- 
guage of this tribe is believed to have been quite unlike 
those of the neighboring tribes. Its political organization 
was a well-developed despotism, the ruler being a religious 
autocrat whose authority was beyond question. This dig- 
nitary was known as the Sun, and was looked ujDon as a 
dii'ect and sacred descendant of the solar deity. All mem- 
bers of the royal caste were called Suns, and had special 
privileges. Beneath them was a nobility, while the com- 
mon people were very submissive. The chiefs' dwellings 
were on mounds, and the mounds were also the seat of 
temples, in which the sacred fire was guarded with super- 
stitious care by the priesthood. La Salle, who visited the 
Natchez in 1681-82, describes them as living in large adobe 
dwellings. The temple of the sun was adorned with the 
figures of three eagles, with their heads turned to the east. 
The Natchez possessed a completely-organized system of 
worship, with temples, idols, pi"iests, keepers of sacred 
things, religious festivals, and the like, while the people 
were thoroughly'' under the control of their superstitions. 
The ruler had the power of life and death over the people, 
as also had his nearest female relative, who was known 



Morris] THE ABORIGINES OF AMERICA. 37 

as the Woman Chief, and whose son succeeded to the 
throne. The extinguishment of the sacred fire in the 
temples was deemed the greatest calamity that could be- 
fall them. The death of the Sun cost the life of his guaixls 
and many of his subjects, while few of the principal per- 
sons died without human sacrifices. Captives taken in 
war were sacrificed to the sun, and their skulls displayed 
on the temples. 

The customs and religious ceremonies of this tribe are 
of particular interest, as there is reason to believe that in 
the Natchez we have the most direct descendants of the 
Mound-Builders, and that in the despotism of their chief 
and the superstition of the people there survived until 
historical times the conditions under which the great 
works of the Mississippi Valley were erected. The de- 
struction of the tribe by the earlj'' French colonists has 
been a serious loss to archseological science. 

It is believed by some writers that the Mexican civiliza- 
tion was a direct development of that of the Mound-Build- 
ers. Among the peoples of Mexico and Central America 
traditions of an original migration from the north were 
common, while the affinity between the customs and re- 
ligious ideas of the Aztecs and the Indians of the south- 
ern United States was so great that the civilization of the 
former may with some assurance be considered an out- 
growth from the semi-civilization of the latter. 

Land-communism was the general practice in Mexico, 
and the Creek public storehouse, under the control of the 
Mico, was imitated by the Aztec public stores, under the 
control of the emperor, in which a fixed portion of all prod- 
uce had to be placed. The Creek council of chiefs and 
elders was represented by a similar council in Mexico, by 
whose decisions the emperor was controlled. Worship of 
the sun was an early form of the Mexican religious ideas, 
I. 4 



38 AMERICAN HISTORY. [MoRRia 

though it was afterwards replaced by worship of the god 
of war. Human sacrifice had grown to enoi-mous pi'o- 
portions, and the sacrifice of war-captives by the Natchez 
had its Aztec counterpai't in vast warlike raids for the 
purpose of obtaining victims for sacrifice to the terrible 
war-god. The sacred fire was guarded with the utmost 
care, and dire calamities were predicted if it should be 
extinguished. It was voluntarily extinguished once every 
fifty-two years; and rekindled after a week of lamentation 
and mortal dread. The passage of the " new fire" through 
the country was the occasion of universal joy and festivity. 

"We have already indicated the resemblance between the 
temple mounds of the two regions, and other points of 
affinity might be named, but the above will suffice to show 
the great probability that the civilization of the Missis- 
sippi Yalley and that of Mexico and Central America were 
directly connected and formed parts of one general growth 
of American culture. As for the actual histor}- of the 
aborigines prior to the advent of the whites, very little is 
known. Numerous legends and traditions exist, though 
few of these can be considered of historical authenticit}'. 
The Indians of the United States, indeed, possess no rec- 
ords that can be accepted as historical. What seem most 
so are stories of migrations ; yet none of these can be 
taken as representative of actual events, but are rather to 
be viewed as vague remembrances of some of the many 
movements which must have taken place. 

The only traditions that are to any extent historical 
are those of the Nahuas and Mayas of Mexico and Cen- 
tral America. These descinbe the movements, during a 
number of centuries preceding the Spanish conquest, of 
several successive peoples, as the Toltecs, the Chichimecs, 
and the Aztecs of Mexico, and a parallel series in the 
Maya region. Extensive details of the history of these 



MoKRis] THE ABORIGINES OF AMERICA. 39 

and other tribes are given, much of which is undoubtedly 
authentic, yet the actual is so mingled with the mythical 
in these records that no trust can be placed in any but 
their latest portions, and even these are not to be accepted 
without question. 

The traditions of migrations from the north and east 
are so generally reiterated that they seem to indicate 
actual events, and the same may be said of the very com- 
mon tradition of the coming of a great hero or deity from 
the east, the Quetzalcoatl of the Aztecs, the Votan of the 
Mayas, and similar deities of other tribes. These are 
fabled to have brought civilization and taught habits of 
industry and lessons of political subordination to the 
previously uncultured tribes. They may represent the 
actual advent of civilized navigators from Europe or else- 
where, though this is a pi"oblem that can never be solved. 

Much might here be said concerning the historical rec- 
ords of the JSTahuas and Mayas, had we space to review 
them, yet a consideration of the whole leads to the con- 
clusion above avowed, that the American aborigines had 
no records that can be considered absolutely of historical 
value previous to the discovery of America by Columbus. 
We may, therefore, look upon their trustworthy history 
as beginning with that event, since in their earlier records 
it is impossible to distinguish between the mythical and 
the actual. 



40 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Kobertson 



SECTION II. 

THE ERA OF DISCOVERY. 



COLUMBUS IN EUROPE. 

WILLIAM ROBERTSON. 

[From the age of Phoenician enterprise to the fifteenth century of 
the Christian era, covering a period of more than two thousand j-ears, 
maritime enterprise in Europe lagged, and the boldness of the ancients 
was emulated by none of their successors. The Mediterranean long 
sontinued the theatre of commerce. In later years, in which the 
Atlantic coast became the seat of an active sea-going trade, the only 
sailors who ventured far out of sight of land were the half-barbarous 
Scandinavian pirates. 

A bolder spirit appeared in the discovery of the Canary Islands by 
Spanish navigators in 1334. No further step in discovery was made 
until 1419, when the Portuguese discovered the Madeira Islands. 
The Portuguese from this time developed a new spirit of enterprise, 
and advanced point by point along the coast of Africa until 1486, in 
which year Bartholomew Diaz discovered the Cape of Good Hope. 
This event rendered it evident to the experienced sailors of Portugal 
that Africa could be circumnavigated and the East Indies reached by 
this route. While preparations were being made for the important 
voyage which should prove the truth of this theory, a yet more im- 
portant event occurred, in the discovery of America by Columbus. 
The steps leading to this great enterprise we may give in the words of 
a noted historical work of the last century, " The History of America," 
by "William Kobertson.] 

Among the foreigners whom the fame of the discoveries 
ma.de by the Portuguese had allured into their service 



Robertson] COLUMBUS IN EUROPE. 41 

was Christopher Colon or Columbus, a subject of the re- 
public of Genoa. Neither the time nor place of his birth 
are known with certainty ; but he was descended of an 
honorable family, though reduced to indigence by various 
misfortunes. His ancestors having betaken themselves 
for subsistence to a seafaring life, Columbus discovered, 
in his early youth, the peculiar character and talents 
which mark out a man for that profession. His parents, 
instead of thwarting this original propensity of his mind, 
seem to have encouraged and confirmed it by the educa- 
tion which they gave him. After acquiring some knowl- 
edge of the Latin tongue, the only language in which 
science was taught at that time, he was instructed in 
geometry, cosmography, astronomy, and the art of draw- 
ing. To these he applied with such ardor and predilec- 
tion, on account of their connection with navigation, his 
favorite object, that he advanced with rapid proficiency 
in the study of them. Thus qualified, he went to sea at 
the age of fourteen (1461), and began his career on that 
element which conducted him to so much glory. His 
early voyages were to those ports in the Mediterranean 
which his countrymen the Genoese frequented. This 
being a sphere too narrow for his active mind, he made 
an excursion to the northern seas (1467), and visited the 
coasts of Iceland, to which the English and other nations 
had begun to resort on account of its fishery. As naviga- 
tion, in every direction, was now become enterprising, he 
proceeded beyond that island, the Thule of the ancients, 
and advanced several degrees within the polar circle. 
Having satisfied his curiosity by a voyage which tended 
more to enlarge his knowledge of naval afi'aii's than to 
improve his fortune, he entered into the service of a 
famous sea-captain, of his own name and family. This 
man commanded a small squadron, fitted out at his own 
I. i* 



42 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Robertson 

expense, and by cruising sometimes against the Mahom- 
etans, sometimes against the Venetians, the rivals of his 
country in trade, had acquired both wealth and reputa- 
tion. With him Columbus continued for several years, 
no less distinguished for his courage than for his experi- 
ence as a sailor. At length, in an obstinate engagement, 
off the coast of Portugal, with some Venetian caravels 
returning richly laden from the Low Countries, the vessel 
on board which he served took fire, together with one of 
the enemy's ships, to which it was fast grappled. In this 
dreadful extremity his intrepidity and presence of mind 
did not forsake him. He threw himself into the sea, 
laid hold of a floating oar, and by the support of it, and 
his dexterity in swimming, he reached the shore, though 
above two leagues distant, and saved a life reserved for 
great undertakings. 

As soon as he recovered strength for the journey, he 
repaired to Lisbon, where many of his countrymen were 
settled. They soon conceived such a favorable opinion of 
his merit, as well as talents, that they warmly solicited 
him to remain in that kingdom, whei*e his naval skill and 
experience could not fail of rendering him conspicuous. 
To every adventurer, animated either with curiosity to 
visit new countries, or with ambition to distinguish him- 
self, the Portuguese service was at that time extremely 
inviting. Columbus listened with a favorable ear to the 
advice of his friends, and, having gained the esteem of a 
Portuguese lady, whom he married, fixed his residence in 
Lisbon. This alliance, instead of detaching him from a 
seafaring life, contributed to enlarge the sphere of his 
naval knowledge, and to excite a desire of extending it 
still further. His wife was a daughter of Bartholomew 
Perestrello, one of the captains employed by Prince 
Henry in his early navigations, and who, under his pro- 



Robertson] COLUMBUS IN EUROPE. 43 

tection, had discovered and planted the islands of Porto 
Santo and Madeira. Columbus got possession of the 
journals and charts of this experienced navigator, and 
fi-oin them he learned the course which the Portuguese 
had held in making their discoveries, as well as the 
various circumstances which guided or encouraged them 
in their attempts. The study of these soothed and in- 
flamed his favorite passion ; and while he contemplated 
the maps, and read the descriptions of the new countries 
which Perestrello had seen, his impatience to visit them 
became irresistible. In order to indulge it, he made a 
voyage to Madeira, and continued during several years to 
trade with that island, with the Canaries, the Azores, the 
settlements in Guinea, and all the other places which the 
Portuguese had discovered on the continent of Africa. 

By the experience which Columbus acquired during 
such a variety of voyages to almost everj^ part of the 
globe with which, at that time, any intercoui'se was car- 
ried on by sea, be was now become one of the most skil- 
ful navigators in Europe. But, not satisfied with that 
praise, his ambition aimed at something more. The suc- 
cessful progress of the Portuguese navigators had awakened 
a spirit of curiosity and emulation, which set every man 
of science upon examining all the circumstances that led 
to the discoveries which they had made, or that afforded a 
prospect of succeeding in any new and bolder undertaking. 
The mind of Columbus, naturally inquisitive, capable of 
deep reflection, and turned to speculations of this kind, 
was so often employed in revolving the principles upon 
which the Portuguese had founded their schemes of dis- 
covery, and the mode in which they had carried them on, 
that he gradually began to form an idea of improving 
upon their plan, and of accomplishing discoveries which 
hitherto they had attempted in vain. 



44 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Robertson 

To find out a passage by sea to the East Indies was the 
great object in view at that period. From the time that 
the Portuguese doubled Cape de Verd, this was the point 
at which they aimed in all their navigations, and in com- 
parison with it all their discoveries in Africa appeared in- 
considerable. The fertility and riches of India had been 
known for many ages; its spices and other valuable com- 
modities were in high request throughout Europe, and the 
vast wealth of the Venetians, arising from their having 
engrossed this trade, had raised the envy of all nations. 
But how intent soever the Portuguese were upon discov- 
ering a new route to those desirable regions, they searched 
for it only by steering towards the south, in hopes of 
arriving at India, by turning to the east, after the}" had 
sailed round the farther extremity of Africa. This course 
was still unknown, and, even if discovered, was of such 
immense length that a voyage from Europe to India 
must have appeared, at that period, an undertaking ex- 
tremely arduous and of very uncertain issue. More than 
half a century had been employed in advancing from 
Cape Non to the equator; a much longer space of time 
might elapse before the more extensive navigation from 
that to India could be accomplished. These reflections 
upon the uncertainty, the danger, and tediousness of the 
course which the Portuguese were pursuing, naturally 
led Columbus to consider whether a shorter and more 
direct passage to the East Indies might not be found out. 
After revolving long and seriously every circumstance 
suggested by his superior knowledge in the theory as 
well as practice of navigation, after comparing atten- 
tively the observations of modern pilots with the hints 
and conjectures of ancient authors, he at last concluded 
that by sailing directly towards the west, across the 
Atlantic Ocean, new countries, which probably formed a 



KoBERTSON] COLUMBUS IN EUROPE. 45 

part of the great continent of India, must infallibly be 
discovered. 

Principles and arguments of various kinds, and derived 
from different sources, induced him to adopt this opinion, 
seemingly as chimerical as it was new and extraordinary. 
The spherical figure of the earth was known, and its mag 
nitude ascertained with some degree of accuracy. From 
this it was evident that the continents of Europe, Asia, 
and Africa, as far as they were known at that time, formed 
but a small portion of the terraqueous globe. It was suit- 
able to our ideas concerning the wisdom and beneficence 
of the Author of Nature, to believe that the vast space 
still unexplored was not covered entirely by a vast un- 
profitable ocean, but occupied by countries fit for the habi- 
tation of man. It appeared, likewise, extremely probable 
that the continent on this side of the globe was balanced 
by a proportional quantity of land in the other hemisphere. 
These conclusions concerning the existence of another con- 
tinent, drawn from the figure and structure of the globe, 
were confirmed by the observations and conjectures of 
modern navigators. A Portuguese pilot, having stretched 
farther to the west than was usual at that time, took up 
a piece of timber artificially carved, floating upon the 
sea ; and as it was driven towards him by a westerly wind, 
he concluded that it came from some unknown land situ- 
ated in that quarter. Columbus's brother-in-law had found, 
to the west of the Madeira Isles, a piece of timber fash- 
ioned in the same manner and brought by the same wind, 
and had seen, likewise, canes of an enormous size float- 
ing upon the waves, which resembled those described by 
Ptolemy as productions peculiar to the East Indies. After 
a course of westerly winds, trees, torn up by the roots, 
were often driven upon the coasts of the Azores, and 
at one time the dead bodies of two men, with singular 



46 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Eobertsou 

features, resembling neither the inhabitants of Europe nor 
of Africa, were cast ashore thei'e. 

[Columbus was of the opinion, from the statements of several ancient 
writers, that India was a country of immense size, extending far to 
the east, and that it might be most easily reached by sailing westward 
around the spherical globe. He had no conception of its actual dis- 
tance, and no dream of an intervening continent.] 

To a mind less capable of forming and of executing 
great designs than that of Columbus, all those reasonings 
and observations and authorities would have served only 
as the foundation of some plausible and fruitless theory, 
which might have furnished matter for ingenious dis- 
course or fanciful conjecture. But with his sanguine and 
enterprising temper, speculation led directly to action. 
Fully satisfied himself with respect to the truth of his 
system, he was impatient to bring it to the test of ex- 
periment, and to set out upon a voyage of discovery. The 
first step towards this was to secure the patronage of 
some of the considerable powers in Europe capable of 
undertaking such an enterprise. As long absence had 
not extinguished the affection which he bore to his native 
country, he wished that it should reap the fruits of his 
labors and invention. With this view, he laid his scheme 
before the senate of Genoa, and, making his country the 
first tender of his service, offered to sail under the ban- 
ners of the republic in quest of the new regions which he 
expected to discover. But Columbus had resided for so 
many years in foreign parts that his countrymen were 
unacquainted with his abilities and character; and, though 
a maritime people, were so little accustomed to distant 
voyages that they could form no just idea of the princi- 
ples on which be founded his hopes of success. They 
inconsiderately rejected his proposal, as the dream of a 



Robertson] COLUMBUS IX EUROPE. 47 

chimerical projector, and lost forever the opportunity of 
restoring their commonwealth to its ancient splendor. 

[His next application was to John II. of Portugal, to whom his 
abilities were known, and who listened graciously to his project. But 
the parties to whom the monarch referred the scheme induced him 
dishonorably to despatch a vessel, with strict secrecy, in the direction 
indicated by Columbus. The pilot chosen, however, returned after 
a short voyage, and declared the project dangerous and impracticable. 
When Columbus learned of this treacherous proceeding, he indig- 
nantly left Portugal and proceeded to Spain, then under the joint 
rule of Ferdinand and Isabella. Here he spent years in seeking to 
enlist the monarchs in his favor, until finally, despairing of success, 
he sent his brother to England and prepared to visit that country 
in person.] 

About that time Granada surrendered, and Ferdinand 
and Isabella, in triumphal pomp, took possession of a city 
(January 2, 1492) the reduction of which extirpated a 
foreign power from the heart of their dominions and 
rendered them masters of all the provinces extending 
from the bottom of the Pyrenees to the frontiers of Por- 
tugal. As the flow of spirits which accompanies success 
elevates the mind and renders it enterprising, Quinta- 
nilla and Santangel, the vigilant and discerning patrons 
of Columbus, took advantage of this favorable situation 
in order to make one more effort in behalf of their 
friend. They addressed themselves to Isabella, and, after 
expressing some surprise that she, who had always been 
the munificent patroness of generous undertakings, should 
hesitate so long to countenance the most splendid scheme 
that had ever been j^roposed to any monarch, they repre- 
sented to her that Columbus was a man of a sound under- 
standing and virtuous character, well qualified, by his 
experience in navigation, as well as his knowledge of 
geometry, to form just ideas with respect to the structure 
of the globe and the situation of its various regions; that 



48 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Robertson 

by offering to risk his own life and fortune in the execu- 
tion of his scheme he gave the most satisfying evidence 
both of his integrity and hope of success; that the sum 
required for equipping such an armament as he demanded 
was inconsiderable, and the advantages which might ac- 
crue from his undertaking were immense ; that he de- 
manded no recompense for his invention and labor but 
what was to arise from the countries which he should 
discover ; that, as it was woi'thy of her magnanimity to 
make this noble attempt to extend the sphere of human 
knowledge, and to open an intercourse with regions 
hitherto unknown, so it would afford the highest satisfac- 
tion to her piety and zeal, after re-establishing the Chris- 
tian faith in those provinces of Spain from which it had 
been long banished, to discover a new world, to which she 
might communicate the light and blessings of divine truth ; 
that if now she did not decide instantly, the opportunit}' 
would be irretrievabl}^ lost ; that Columbus was on his way 
to foreign countries, where some prince, more fortunate 
and adventurous, would close with his proposals, and 
Spain would forever bewail the fatal timidity which had 
excluded her from the glory and advantages that she had 
once in her power to have enjoyed. 

These forcible arguments, urged by persons of such 
authority and at a juncture so well chosen, produced the 
desired effect. They dispelled all Isabella's doubts and 
fears : she ordered Columbus to be instantly recalled, de- 
clared her resolution of employing him on his own terms, 
and, regretting the low state of her finances, generously 
offered to pledge her own jewels in order to raise as 
much money as might be needed in making preparations 
for the voyage. Santangel, in a transport of gratitude, 
kissed the queen's hand, and, in order to save her from 
having recourse to such a mortifying expedient for pro- 



Irving] DISCOVERT OF AMERICA BY COLUMBUS. 49 

curing money, engaged to advance immediately the sum 
that was requisite. 

Columbus had proceeded some leagues on his joui-uey 
when the messenger from Isabella overtook him. Upon 
receiving an account of the unexpected revolution in his 
favor, he returned directly to Santa Fe, though some re- 
mainder of diflSdence still mingled itself with his joy. 
But the cordial reception which he met with from Isa- 
bella, together with the near prosj^ect of setting out upon 
that voyage which had so long been the object of his 
thoughts and wishes, soon effaced the remembrance of 
all that he had suffered in Spain during eight tedious 
years of solicitation and suspense. The negotiation now 
went forward with facility and despatch, and a treaty or 
capitulation with Columbus was signed on the seven- 
teenth of April, one thousand four hundred and ninety- 
two. 



THE DISCOVERY OF AMERICA BY COLUMBUS. 

WASHINGTON IRVING. 

[It is a somewhat remarkable evidence of the rapid progress of na- 
tions in modern times that after years of doubt and deliberation the 
utmost provision which the kingdom of Spain could make for the dis- 
covei-y of a new world was a fleet of three frail vessels which would 
now be considered scarcely fit for a coasting voyage, and which thou- 
sands of individuals might provide at an hour's notice. Only one of 
these vessels was decked, and the boldness of ignorance alone made so 
many men willing to dare the risk of crossing an ocean in such crazy 
craft. One hundred and twenty persons in all took part in the expe- 
dition, which set sail from the port of Palos on the 3d of August, 
1492. One of the vessels was in distress when they were but three 
days from port, and the fleet was obliged to put in to the Canary 
I. — c d 5 



50 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving 

Islands for repair. Here they lay for a month before they were ready 
to set sail again. "While there the admiral learned that three Portuguese 
caravels were hovering about the islands, and, fearing that the King 
of Portugal was seeking to stop the expedition, he hastened to put to 
sea, to escape this first danger to his long-cherished scheme. In con- 
tinuation of the story of this remarkable voyage we cannot do better 
than offer the following selection from Irving's " Life and Voyages of 
Columbus."] 

Early in the morning of the 6th of September, Colum- 
bus set sail from the island of Gomera, and now might be 
said first to strike into the region of discovery, — taking 
leave of these frontier islands of the Old World, and steer- 
ing westward for the unknown parts of the Atlantic. 
For three days, however, a profound calm kept the ves- 
sels loitering, with flagging sails, within a short distance 
of the land. This was a tantalizing delay to Columbus, 
who was impatient to find himself far out of sight of 
either land or sail, — which, in the pure atmospheres of 
these latitudes, may be descried at an immense distance. 
On the following Sunday, the 9th of September, at day- 
break, he beheld Ferro, the last of the Canary Islands, 
about nine leagues distant. This was the island whence 
the Portuguese caravels had been seen ; he was there- 
fore in the very neighborhood of danger. Fortunately, a 
breeze sprang up with the sun, their sails were once more 
filled, and in the course of the day the heights of Ferro 
gradually faded from the horizon. 

On losing sight of this last trace of land, the hearts 
of the crews failed them. They seemed literally to have 
taken leave of the world. Behind them was everything 
dear to the heart of man, — country, family, friends, life 
itself; before them everything was chaos, mystery, and 
peril. In the perturbation of the moment, they despaired 
of ever more seeing their homes. Many of the rugged 



Irting] discovery of AMERICA by COLUMBUS. 51 

seamen shed tears, and some broke into loud lamentations. 
The admiral tried in every '^ay to soothe their distress, 
and to inspire them with his own glorious anticipations. 
He described to them the magnificent countries to which 
he was about to conduct them : the islands of the Indian 
seas teeming with gold and precious stones ; the regions 
of Mangi and Cathay, with their cities of unrivalled 
wealth and splendor. He promised them land and riches, 
and everything that could arouse their cupidity or inflame 
their imaginations, nor were these promises made for pur- 
poses of mere deception; he certainly believed that he 
should realize them all. 

[Columbus now directed the commanders of the other vessels that 
in the event of separation they should continue to sail due westward, 
but that after sailing seven hundred leagues they should lie by from 
midnight to dawn, as he confidently expected to find land at about 
that distance. That the crews might remain ignorant of the real 
distance traversed, he kept two reckonings, a private and correct one 
for himself, and a log-book for general inspection, in which the actual 
distance sailed was decreased] 

On the 13th of September, in the evening, being about 
two hundred leagues from the island of Ferro, Columbus, 
for the first time, noticed the variation of the needle, — 
a phenomenon which had never before been remarked. 
He perceived, about nightfall, that the needle, instead of 
pointing to the north star, varied about half a point, or 
between five and six degrees, to the northwest, and still 
more on the following morning. Struck with this circum- 
stance, he observed it attentively for three days, and found 
that the variation increased as he advanced. He at first 
made no mention of tliis phenomenon, knowing how ready 
his people were to take alarm, but it soon attracted the 
attention of the pilots, and filled them with consternation, 
rt seemed as if the verv laws of nature were changing as 



52 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving 

they advanced, and that they were entering another world, 
subject to unknown influerfces. They apprehended that 
the compass was about to lose its mysterious virtues, and, 
without this guide, what was to become of them in a vast 
and trackless ocean ? 

[Columbus succeeded in allaying their apprehensions by an in- 
genious though incorrect explanation of the cause of the variation of 
the compass, a phenomenon which, in fact, remains yet unexplained.] 

On the 14th of September the voyagers were rejoiced 
by the sight of what they considered harbingers of land; 
A heron, and a tropical bird called the Eabo de Junco, 
neither of which are supposed to venture far to sea, 
hovered about the ships. On the following night they 
were struck with awe at beholding a meteor, or, as Colum- 
bus calls it in his journal, a great flame of fire, which 
seemed to fall from the sky into the sea, about four or five 
leagues distant. These meteors, common in warm climates, 
and especially under the tropics, are always seen in the 
serene azure sky of those latitudes, falling as it were fi'om 
the heavens, but never beneath a cloud. In the trans- 
parent atmosphere of one of those beautiful nights, where 
every star shines with the purest lustre, they often leave 
a luminous train behind them which lasts for twelve or 
fifteen seconds and may well be compared to a flame. 

The wind had hitherto been favorable, with occasional, 
though transient, clouds and showers. They had made 
great progress each day, though Columbus, according to 
his secret plan, contrived to suppress several leagues in the 
daily reckoning left open to the crew. 

They had now arrived within the influence of the trade- 
wind, which, following the sun, blows steadily from east 
to west between the tropics, and sweeps over a few adjoin- 
ing degrees of ocean. With this propitious breeze directly 



Irving] DISCOVERY OF AMERICA BY COLUMBUS. 53 

aft, they were wafted gently but speedily over a tranquil 
sea, so that for many days they did not shift a sail. Co- 
lumbus perpetually recurs to the bland and temperate 
serenity of the weather, which in this tract of the ocean 
is soft and refreshing without being cool. In his artless 
and expressive language he compares the pure and balmy 
mornings to those of April in Andalusia, and observes 
that they wanted but the song of the nightingale to com- 
plete the illusion. " He had reason to say so," observes 
the venerable Las. Casas ; " for it is marvellous the suavity 
which we experience when half-way towards these Indies; 
and the more the ships approach the lands, so much more 
do they perceive the temperance and softness of the air, 
the clearness of the sky, and the amenity and fragrance 
sent forth from the groves and forests; much more cer- 
tainly than in April in Andalusia." 

They now began to see large patches of herbs and weeds 
drifting from the west, and increasing in quantity as they 
advanced. Some of these weeds wei-e such as grow about 
rocks, others such as are produced in rivers ; some were 
yellow and withered, others so green as to have apparently 
been recently washed from land. On one of these patches 
was a live crab, which Columbus carefully j^reserved 
They saw also a white tropical bird, of a kind which never 
sleeps upon the sea. Tunny-fish also played about the 
ships, one of which was killed by the crew of the NiJaa. 
Columbus now called to mind the account given by Aris- 
totle of certain ships of Cadiz, "vs^hich, coasting the shores 
outside of the straits of Gibraltar, were driven westward 
by an impetuous east wind, until they reached a part of 
the ocean covered with vast fields of weeds, resembling 
sunken islands, among which they beheld many tunny- 
fish. He supposed himself arrived in this weedy sea, as 
it had been called, from which the ancient mariners had 



54 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving 

turned back in dismay, but which he regarded with ani- 
mated hope, as indicating the vicinity of land. Not that 
he had yet any idea of reaching the object of his search, 
the eastern end of Asia ; for, according to his computation, 
he had come but three hundred and sixty leagues since 
leaving the Canary Islands, and he placed the main land 
of India much farther on. 

On the 18th of September the same weather continued ; 
a soft steady breeze from the east filled every sail, while, 
to use the words of Columbus, the sea was as calm as the 
Guadalquivir at Seville. He fancied that the water of the 
sea grew fresher as he advanced, and noticed this as proof 
of the superior sweetness and purity of the air. . . . 

Notwithstanding his precaution to keep the people 
ignorant of the distance they had sailed, they were now 
growing extremely uneasy at the length of the voyage. 
They had advanced much farther west than ever man 
had sailed before, and though already beyond the reach of 
succoi', still they continued daily leaving vast tracts of ocean 
behind them, and pressing onward and onward into that 
apparently boundless abyss. It is true they had been flat- 
tered b}' various indications of land, and still others were 
occurring ; but all mocked them with vain hopes : after 
being hailed with a transient joy, they passed away, one 
after another, and the same interminable expanse of sea 
and sky continued to extend before them. Even the 
bland and gentle breeze, uniformly aft, was now conjured 
by their ingenious fears into a cause of alarm ; for they 
began to imagine that the wind, in these seas, might al- 
ways prevail from the east, and, if so, would never permit 
their return to Spain. 

Columbus endeavored to dispel these gloomy presages, 
sometimes by argument and expostulation, sometimes by 
awakening fresh hopes and pointing out new signs of land. 



Irving] DISCO VERY OF AMERICA BY COLUMBUS. 55 

On the 20th of September the wind veered, with light 
breezes from the southwest. These, though adverse to 
their progress, had a cheering effect upon the people, as 
they proved that the wind did not always prevail from the 
east. Several birds also visited the ships ; three, of a small 
kind which keep about groves and orchards, came singing 
in the morning, and flew away again in the evening. Their 
song cheered the hearts of the dismayed mariners, who 
hailed it as the voice of land. The larger fowl, they ob- 
served, were strong of wing, and might venture far to sea ; 
but such small birds were too feeble to fly far, and their sing- 
ing showed that they were not exhausted by their flight. 
On the following day there was either a profound calm, 
or light winds from the southwest. The sea, as far as the 
eye could reach, was covered with weeds, — a phenomenon 
often observed in this part of the ocean, which has some- 
times the appearance of a vast inundated meadow. This 
has been attributed to immense quantities of submarine 
plants, which grow at the bottom of the sea until ripe, 
when they are detached by the motion of the waves and 
currents, and rise to the surface. These fields of weeds 
were at first regarded with gi'eat satisfaction, but at length 
they became, in many places, so dense and matted as in 
some degree to impede the sailing of the ships, which must 
have been under very little headway. The crews now 
called to mind some tale about the frozen ocean, where 
ships were said to be sometimes fixed immovable. They en- 
deavored, therefore, to avoid as much as possible these float- 
ing masses, lest some disaster of the kind might happen 
to themselves. Others considered these weeds as proofs 
that the sea was growing shallower, and began to talk of 
lurking rocks, and shoals, and treacherous quicksands ; 
and of the danger of running aground, as it were, in the 
midst of the ocean, where their vessels might rot and fall 



56 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving 

to pieces, far out of the track of human aid, and without 
any shore where the crews might take refuge. They had 
evidently some confused notion of the ancient story of 
the sunken island of Atlantis, and feared that they were 
arriving at that part of the ocean where navigation was 
said to be obstructed by dx'owned lands and the ruins of 
an engulfed country. 

To dispel these fears, the admiral had frequent recourse 
tc the lead ; but, though he sounded with a deep-sea line, 
he still found no bottom. The minds of the crews, how- 
ever, had gradually become diseased. They were full of 
vague terrors and superstitious fancies ; they construed 
everything into a cause of alarm, and harassed their com- 
mander by incessant murmurs. 

[The discontent of the crew rapidly augmented, until it rose to the 
verge of mutiny. Indications which Cohimbus considered favorable 
they viewed as questionable, and he was kept busy in eiforts to allay 
their fears. The cloud-forms in the distance frequently deceived them 
with the illusion of land, the people varying from the excitement of 
joy to deep depression as these illusory hopes vanished.] 

For several days they continued on with the same pro- 
pitious breeze, tranquil sea, and mild, delightful weather. 
The water was so calm that the sailors amused themselves 
with swimming about the vessel. Dolphins began to 
abound, and flying-fish, darting into the air, fell upon the 
decks. The continued signs of land diverted the atten- 
tion of the crews, and insensibly beguiled them onward. 

On the 1st of October, according to the reckoning of 
the pilot of the admiral's ship, they had come five hun- 
dred and eighty leagues west since leaving the Canary 
Islands. The reckoning which Columbus showed the 
crew was five hundred and eighty-four, but the reckon- 
ing which he kept privately was seven hundred and seven. 



Irving] DISCOVERY OF AMERICA BY COLUMBUS. 57 

On the following day the weeds floated from east to west; 
and on the third day no birds were to be seen. 

The crews now began to fear that they had passed be- 
tween islands, from one to the other of which the birds 
had been flying. Columbus had also some doubts of the 
kind, but refused to alter his westward course. The peo- 
ple again uttered murmurs and menaces ; but on the fol- 
lowing day they were visited by such flights of birds, and 
the various indications of land became so numerous, that 
from a state of despondency they passed to one of confi- 
dent expectation. 

Eager to obtain the promised pension, the seamen were 
continually giving the cry of land, on the least appearance 
of the kind. To put a stop to these false alarms, which 
produced continual disappointments, Columbus declared 
that should oxiy one give such notice, and land not be dis- 
covered within three days afterwards, he should thence- 
forth forfeit all claim to the reward. 

[On the 7th of October land was again proclaimed, but with the 
same result as before. There were now seen, however, "great flights 
of small field-birds going towards the southwest," and Columbus con- 
cluded to sail in that direction, from the fact that the Portuguese had 
discovered the most of their islands by following the flight of birds.] 

For three days they stood in this direction, and the fur- 
ther they went the more frequent and encouraging were 
the signs of land. Flights of small birds of various colors, 
some of them such as sing in the fields, came flying about 
the ships, and then continued towards the southwest, and 
others were heai"d also flying by in the night. Tunny-fish 
played about the smooth sea, and a heron, a pelican, and 
a duck were seen, all bound in the same direction. The 
herbage which floated by was fresh and green, as if re- 
cently from land, and the air, Columbus observes, was 
sweet and fragrant as April breezes in Seville. 



58 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ievinq 

All these, however, were regarded by the crews as so 
many delusions beguiling them on to destruction; and 
when on the evening of the third day they beheld the 
sun go down upon a shoreless ocean, t\iQj broke forth 
into turbulent clamor. They exclaimed against this ob- 
stinacy in tempting fate by continuing on into a bound- 
less sea. They insisted upon turning homeward and 
abandoning the voyage as hopeless. Columbus endeav- 
ored to pacify them by gentle words and promises of large 
rewards ; but, finding that they only increased in clamor, 
he assumed a decided tone. He told them it was useless 
to murmur ; the expedition had been sent by the sover- 
eigns to seek the Indies, and, happen what might, he was 
determined to persevere until, by the blessing of God, he 
should accomplish the enterprise. 

Columbus was now at open defiance with his crew, and 
his situation became desperate. Fortunately, the mani- 
festations of the vicinity of land were such on the follow- 
ing day as no longer to admit of a doubt. Beside a quan- 
tity of fresh weeds, such as grow in rivers, they saw a 
green fish of a kind which keeps about rocks ; then a 
branch of thorn with berries on it, and recently separated 
from the tree, floated b}^ them ; then they picked up a 
reed, a small board, and, above all, a staft' artificially 
carved. All gloom and mutin}- now gave way to sanguine 
expectation ; and throughout the day every one was 
eagerly on the watch, in hopes of being the first to dis- 
cover the long-sought-for land. . . . 

The breeze had been fresh all day, with more sea than 
usual, and they had made great progress. At sunset they 
had stood again to the west, and were ploughing the 
waves at a rapid rate, the Pinta keeping the lead, from 
her suj)erior sailing. The greatest animation prevailed 
throughout the ships ; not an eye was closed that night. 



Irving] DISCOVERY OF AMERICA BY COLUMBUS. 59 

As the evening darkened, Columbus took his station on 
the top of the castle or cabin on the high poop of his 
vessel, ranging his eye along the dusky horizon, and main- 
taining an intense and unremitting watch. About ten 
o'clock he thought he beheld a light glimmering at a great 
distance. Fearing his eager hopes might deceive him, 
he called to Pedro Gutierrez, gentleman of the king's bed- 
chamber, and inquired whether he saw such a light ; the 
latter replied in the aflfirmative. Doubtful whether it 
might not yet be some delusion of the fancy, Columbus 
called Eodrigo Sanchez of Segovia, and made the same 
inquiry. By the time the latter had ascended the round- 
house, the light had disappeared. They saw it once or 
twice afterwards in sudden and passing gleams, as if it 
were a torch in the bark of a fisherman, rising and sink- 
ing with the waves, or in the hand of some person on 
shore, borne up and down as he walked from house to 
house. So transient and uncertain were these gleams 
that few attached any importance to them ; Columbus, 
however, considei-ed them as certain signs of land, and, 
moreover, that the land was inhabited. 

They continued their course until two in the morning, 
when a gun from the Pinta gave the joyful signal of land. 
It was first descried by a mai'iner named Eodrigo de 
Triana; but the reward was afterwards adjudged to the 
admiral, for having previously j)erceived the light. The 
land was now clearly seen about two leagues distant, 
whereupon they took in sail, and laid to, waiting im- 
patiently for the dawn. 

The thoughts and feelings of Columbus in this little space 
of time must have been tumultuous and intense. At length, 
in spite of every difficult}'' and danger, he had accomplished 
his object. The great mystery of the ocean was revealed; 
his theory, which had been the scoff of sages, was trium- 



CO AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving 

phantly established; he had secured to himself a glory 
durable as the world itself. 

It is difficult to conceive the feelings of such a man at 
such a moment, or the conjectures which must have 
thronged upon his mind, as to the land before him, covered 
with darkness. That it was fruitful, was evident from the 
vegetables which floated from its shores. He thought, too, 
that he perceived the fragrance of aromatic groves. The 
moving light he had beheld proved it the residence of 
man. But what were its inhabitants? "Were they like 
those of the other parts of the globe? or were they some 
strange and monstrous race, such as the imagination was 
prone in those times to give to all remote and unknown 
regions ? Had he come upon some wild island far in the 
Indian sea? or was this the famed Cipango itself, the 
object of his golden fancies ? A thousand speculations of 
the kind must have swarmed upon him, as, with his anx- 
ious crews, he waited for the night to pass away, won- 
dering whether the morning light would reveal a savage 
wilderness, or dawn upon spicy groves, and glittering 
fanes, and gilded cities, and all the splendor of Oriental 
civilization. 

It was on Friday morning, the 12th of October, that 
Columbus first beheld the New "World. As the day dawned 
he saw before him a level island, several leagues in extent, 
and covered with trees like a continual orchard. Though 
apparently uncultivated, it was populous, for the inhab- 
itants were seen issuing from all parts of the woods and 
running to the shore. The}^ were perfectly naked, and, 
as they stood gazing at the ships, appeared by their atti- 
tudes and gestures to be lost in astonishment. Columbus 
made signal for the ships to cast anchor, and the boats to 
be manned and armed. He entered his own boat, richly 
attired in scarlet, and holding the royal standard; whilst 



Gordon] DISCOVERY OF THE PACIFIC BY BALBOA. 61 

Martin Alonzo Pinzon, and Yincent Jauez his brother, put 
off in company in their boats, each with a banner of the 
enterprise emblazoned with a green cross, having on either 
side the letters F. and Y., the initials of the Castilian 
monarchs Fernando and Ysabel, surmounted by crowns. 

As he approached the shore, Columbus, who was dis- 
posed for all kinds of agreeable impressions, was delighted 
with the purity and suavity of the atmosphere, the crys- 
tal transparency of the sea, and the extraordinary beauty 
of the vegetation. He beheld, also, fruits of an unknown 
kind upon the trees which overhung the shores. On land- 
ing, he threw himself on his knees, kissed the earth, and 
returned thanks to God with tears of joy. His example 
was followed by the rest, whose hearts indeed overflowed 
with the same feelings of gratitude. Columbus then rising 
drew his sword, displayed the royal standard, and assem- 
bling around him the two captains, with Rodrigo de Esco- 
bedo, notary of the armament, Rodrigo Sanchez, and the 
rest who had landed, he took solemn possession in the 
name of the Castilian sovereigns, giving the island the 
name of San Salvador. Having complied with the requi- 
site forms and ceremonies, he called upon all present to 
take the oath of obedience to him, as admiral and viceroy, 
representing the persons of the sovereigns. 



THE DISCOVERY OF THE PACIFIC BY BALBOA. 

THOMAS F. GORDON. 

[The discovery made by Columbus was followed up by the Span- 
iards with an activity in marked contrast to the supineness displayed 
by other nations in exploring and settling the American continent. 
Within twenty years from 1492 the four largest islands of the West 
I. 6 



62 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gordon 

Indies were the seats of active colonies, while nr.ore than a century 
passed ere any other nation founded a permanent colony on the Amer- 
ican shores, with the exception of the small settlements of the Portu- 
guese in Brazil. This was rapidly followed by the conquest of the two 
great empires of Mexico and Peru, and the exploration of the region 
of the southern United States, while yet other nations were content- 
ing themselves with occasional voyages of discovery along the coasts 
of the new continent. The great fertility of the islands first settled 
by the Spaniards, the mildness of their climates, and, above all, the 
frequent discovery of gold, pearls, and other rich prizes, were the main 
causes of the Spanish activity, and served as inducements to repeated 
exploring expeditions. 

Columbus made four voyages in all to the New World, discovering 
the South American continent near the mouth of the Orinoco in the 
third, and reaching Honduras and the coast to the south of this region 
in the fourth. To the day of his death he continued under the delu- 
sion that the land he had reached was the eastern extremity of Asia. 
Other voyagers quickly followed. Ojeda, who had already visited His- 
paniola with Columbus, sailed on his own account and explored four 
hundred leagues of the coast of South America in the region already dis- 
covered by Columbus. He was accompanied by Amerigo Vespucci, 
who made three subsequent voyages to America and wrote the first 
account of it that was published. This was in a Latin work printed 
in 1507 and prepared by a German scholar, Martin Waldseemiiller, 
who proposed the name of America for the new continent. The sug- 
gestion was universally accepted, and Columbus lost the honor of 
giving his name to the New "World. 

Other voyagers were Pedro Alonzo Nigno, who sailed to the same 
region of South America and passed from the Gulf of Paria to the 
shores of the present republic of Colombia, and Vincent Yanez Pin- 
zon, who had commanded one of the vessels of Columbus on his first 
voyage, and who was the first Spaniard to cross the equinoctial line. 
He discovered the mouth of the Amazon River, and from there sailed 
north to the Caribbean Sea and the Gulf of Mexico. About the same 
time (1499) Diego Lope reached the coast of South America at Cape 
St. Augustine, which he doubled and sailed to the southwest for a con- 
siderable distance. In 1500, Rodrigo Bastides touched South America 
at Cape Vela, and coasted to the present seaport of Nombre de Dios, a 
point which Columbus had reached in sailing south from Honduras. 

At a subsequent period the settled islands of the West Indies became 



Gordon] DISCOVERY OF THE PACIFIC BY BALBOA. 63 

centres of exploration for the reckless or disappointed spirits who had 
failed to find there the fortunes they sought. Among others, Ojeda, 
under a grant from the King of Spain, founded the settlement of San 
Sebastian, in the Gulf of Uraba. With him had engaged to sail 
Francisco Pizarro and Hernando Cortfe. The latter was detained by 
illness, but the former thus made the first step in his famous career. 
The colony left by Ojeda was forced by the Indians to abandon the 
settlement. One vessel foundered. The other, commanded by Pizarro, 
reached Carthagena, where was found Enciso, a lawyer of San Do- 
mingo, who was conveying men and provisions to the colony. With 
him was Vasco Nuiiez de Balboa, an adventurer whose debts made 
him fly the town, and who managed to smuggle himself on board the 
ship in what purported to be a cask of provisions. On leaving shore 
he emerged from his cask, fell on his knees to Enciso, and begged par- 
don for his trick and permission to accompany the expedition. The 
colony having been deserted, Balboa proposed that they should sail for 
Darien, Avhich coast he had already visited with Bastides. This pro- 
posal was accepted, and a new town established, which was named 
Santa IVEaria de la Antigua del Darien. Troubles ensued among the 
colonists, which ended in the imprisonment of Enciso, and the estab- 
lishment of Balboa as alcalde of the colony. The subsequent story 
of this able adventurer is told in detail in " The History of the Span- 
ish Discoveries in America," by Thomas F. Gordon, from which we 
m.ake the following selection.] 

In the mean time the natives of Davien, weary of their 
unbidden guests, and calculating that the same passions 
which brought them to their shores would tempt them 
to remove, represented that the neighboring district of 
Coyba was richer than that of Santa Maria, both in pro- 
visions and gold. Balboa sent Pizarro, with six men only, 
to explore the countrj-. Whilst ascending the river, they 
were surrounded by four hundi-ed Indians, commanded 
by the cacique Zemaco, with whom the Spaniards unhesi- 
tatingly engaged, and in a very short time slew one hun- 
dred and fifty, and wounded many others. All the Span- 
iards were severely hurt, and one, dangerously wounded, 



64 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gordon 

was left on the field. The others retreated to Santa Maria. 
But Balboa, conceiving it to be a stain on his reputation 
that a living man should be thus abandoned, compelled 
Pizarro, with another party, to bring him off. 

[Balboa soon after conquered Coyba, and formed a league with its 
cacique, who became a useful ally.] 

Adjacent to Coyba, at the foot of a range of high moun- 
tains, lay the district of Comagre, governed by a cacique 
of the same name, who, struck with admiration of the 
Spaniai'ds, invited them into his territories, treated them 
with much hospitality, and displayed greater civilization 
than they had yet seen in the IS'ew World. His palace, 
one hundred and fifty paces in length and eighty in 
breadth, was enclosed by a wall of timber of ingenious 
workmanship, and divided into convenient apartments, 
stored with abundance of provisions. One of these cham- 
bers was the receptacle of the dried and embalmed bodies 
of his ancestors of many generations, which, clothed in 
mantles of cotton, embroidered with gold, pearls, and 
precious stones, were suspended from the walls. 

The eldest son of the cacique presented his guest with 
a rich offering of gold, valued at four thousand pesos, and 
seventy slaves. A fifth of the metal was set apart for the 
king ; but in the division of the remainder a strife arose 
among the Christians, which surprised and provoked the 
young Indian. " If," said he, addressing the Spaniards, 
and indignantly striking over the balance, "if you are so 
fond of gold as for its sake to desert your own country 
and distui'b the peace of others, I will lead you to a prov- 
ince where your utmost desires may be gratified, — where 
gold is more abundant than iron in Spain, and is used in 
the fabric of ordinary domestic utensils. But to conquer 
this country you must provide a larger force than you 



Gordon] DISCOVERY OF THE PACIFIC BY BALBOA. 65 

have here, since you will have to contend with mighty 
chieftains, who will vigorously defend their possessions. 
When you shall have passed these mountains," continued 
he, pointing to a range in the southwest, " you will behold 
another ocean, on which are vessels inferior only to those 
which brought j'ou hither, equipped with sails and oars, 
but navigated by a people naked like ourselves." It is 
supposed that the young chief alluded to the people of 
Peru. 

Balboa received with rapturous delight this first certain 
intimation of the existence of another ocean. He exulted 
in the hope of discovering the East Indies, which had 
been so dearly cherished by Columbus, and conjectured 
that the country now described to him formed a part of 
that vast and opulent region. He immediatel}^ set about 
preparation for this great enterprise, cultivating the good 
will of Comagre and other chieftains, and administering 
to the former and his sons the rite of Chi-istian baptism. 

[He sent the gold intended for the royal treasury to St. Domingo, 
and occupied himself in subduing the neighboring tribes while wait- 
ing to obtain the sanction of the king to his government of the colony. 
So much gold was obtained, and such extravagant accounts of the 
riches of the country were carried to Spain, that the region received 
the name of Golden Castile (Castilla del Oro), and Balboa was sent 
the commission of captain-general by Passamonte, the king's treasurer 
at St. Domingo.] 

But the pleasure of Nuilez, on this occasion, was not 
unmixed. Enciso had carried his complaints to the foot 
of the throne, and Balboa was commanded to repair his 
losses, to proceed immediately to court, and submit him- 
self to the king's pleasure. He might, therefore, hourly 
expect a successor, to deprive him of the fame and wealth 
he anticipated from his intended enterprise. To prevent 
a calamity' greatly deprecated by his ambitious spirit, he 
I. — « 6* 



G6 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gordon 

determined to effect the passage to the South Sea with the 
force then under his command. 

The Isthmus of Darien is not above sixty miles in 
breadth, but a chain of lofty mountains, a continuation of 
the Andes, covered with almost impenetrable forests, runs 
through its whole extent. Its valleys, divided by large and 
impetuous rivers, and inundated by rains which prevail 
near two-thirds of the year, are marshy and unhealthy. 
Its inhabitants, advanced but a few degrees in civilization, 
had done nothing to remove or alleviate the difficulties of 
the passage from sea to sea ; nor after a lapse of three 
hundred years has it become more facile or commodious. 

The attempt of Balboa may justly be considered the 
boldest which had been made by the Spaniards in the 
New World ; but he was in all respects fitted to insure 
its success. The quality of courage he possessed, only, in 
common with the meanest of his army ; but his prudence, 
generosity, and affability, and those nameless popular 
talents which inspire confidence and secure attachment, 
were peculiarly his own. In battle his post was that 
of the greatest danger, and in every labor that of the 
greatest fatigue ; whilst his regard for the ease of his 
troops was ever active and anxious. He desired for his 
undertaking a force of one thousand soldiers, but he com- 
menced it with one hundred and ninety only, and some 
fierce blood-hounds, which were efficient auxiliaries. A 
thousand Indians, who accompanied him, were chiefly 
useful in the transportation of the baggage. 

Balboa set foi-th on the 1st of September (1513), after 
the rainy season had passed. He proceeded by sea to the 
district of Coyba, and thence marched into that of the 
cacique Ponca. At his approach, that chieftain fled to 
the deepest recesses of his mountains ; but, attracted by 
promises of favor, and a liberal donation of Spanish im- 



Gordon] DISCOVERY OF THE PACIFIC BY BALBOA. 67 

plements and toys, he returned to his village, and gave 
the Spaniards a small quantity of gold, some provisions, 
and guides. Further progress was sternly opposed by a 
warlike tribe, armed with bows and arrows, and a species 
of sling, by which they threw staves hardened in the fire 
with such force as to pass through the body of a naked 
adversary. But the novel and terrific effect of the firelock, 
the keen edge of the sword, and the ferocity of the blood- 
hounds, scattered them in disma}^, with the loss of their 
cacique and six hundred of inferior note. Among the 
prisoners were the brother of the cacique, and several 
chiefs, who were clothed in tunics of white cotton ; and, 
being accused of unnatural crimes by their enemies, they 
were torn to pieces by the dogs, at the command of the 
Spaniards. 

This defeat made the neighboring tribes fearful of pro- 
voking hostility, and disposed them to render such assist- 
ance as the Christians required. But great labor and 
patience were necessary to overcome the natural difficul- 
ties of the way. Disease and fatigue broke down some of 
the hardy veterans, and they were left behind to recruit 
their health. A journey estimated b}^ the Indians to be 
of six days only had already occupied twenty-five days, 
when Nunez approached the summit of a mountain from 
which he was informed the great ocean might be seen. 
He commanded the army to halt, and advanced alone to 
the apex, whence he beheld the great South Sea opened 
before him, in boundless extent. Casting himself on his 
knees, he poured forth his grateful thanks to heaven for 
conducting him in safety to this glorious object. The 
army, beholding his transports, rushed forward, and 
joined in his admiration, his exultation, and his grati- 
tude. Then, with formal ceremony, he took possession of 
land and sea, making a record thereof, carefully attested, 



68 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gordon 

erecting crosses and mounds of stone, and cutting the 
king's name on trees. In his descent to the coast he was 
compelled to combat with a cacique called Chiapes, whom 
he converted by his magnanimity into an active and zeal- 
ous friend. . . . 

[A practicable passage to the sea being discovered,] 
Nunez, leaving a great part of his men at the village of 
Chiapes, proceeded with eighty Spaniards and a number 
of Indians, conducted by their friendly chief, towards the 
coast, and arrived on the borders of one of the vast bays 
which indent it, and to which he gave the name of St. 
Michael, it being discovered on that saint's day. When 
he reached the shore he rushed into the ocean with his 
sword drawn, and called upon the witnesses to observe 
that he had taken possession of it in the name of the king, 
his master. 

[The succeeding career of Balboa may be epitomized. Receiving 
from the Indians a fuller description of the great and wealthy empire 
to the south, and having too few men to attempt its conquest, he re- 
turned to Darien by another route, carrying with him a treasure valued 
at nearly half a million of dollars, the greatest collected up to that time 
by any adventurer in America. He at once sent messengers to Spain, 
but before these arrived Don Pedrarias Davila had been sent out to 
supersede him in his command. Somewhat later letters arrived from 
the king appointing Balboa Adelantado, or admiral. He then resolved 
to accomplish his project of exploring the newly-discovered ocean. 
With enormous labor, ship-building materials were conveyed across 
the isthmus, and two brigantines were constructed. Embarking in 
these, the adventurere took possession of the Pearl Islands, and only 
adverse weather prevented them from reaching the coast of Peru. 
Balboa's career was checked by the jealousy of Pedrarias, who re- 
called him to Darien. Balboa obeyed, having no suspicion of treach- 
ery. He was immediately seized, imprisoned, tried, and condemned 
to death, Pedrarias forcing the judge to impose this sentence. The 
sentence was carried into execution in the public square of Ada, in 
1517, to the great grief of all the inhabitants, who had vainlv inter- 



Prescott] retreat OF CORTES. 69 

ceded for his pardon. The design of the conquest of Peru, which he 
was thus prevented from accomplishing, was finally carried out by Pi- 
zarro, as able a man as Balboa, and a much more unscrupulous one. 
Three years after the death of Balboa, a Spanish fleet, under Magellan, 
entered the South Sea after sailing around the southern extremity of 
the continent. This great ocean, which Magellan named the Pacific, 
from the pleasant weather with which he was steadily favored, was 
crossed by his ships to the islands of the Indian archipelago. Laden 
with spices, the fleet returned to Europe by way of the Cape of Good 
Hope, having thus completed the circumnavigation of the globe.] 



RETREAT OF CORTES FROM THE CITY OF MEXICO. 

WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT. 

[The first step towards the discovery of Mexico was made by Fran- 
Cisco Fernandez de Cordova, who, in 1517, explored the northern 
coast of Yucatan. Instead of finding naked savages, as in former 
explorations, he was surprised to discover well-clad people and large 
stone edifices. The natives were so bold and warlike as to drive ofl" 
the Spaniards, killing many of them, and mortally wounding Cordova. 
In the following year, Juan de Grijalva explored a portion of the 
southern coast of Mexico, and obtained much treasure by traffic with 
the inhabitants. Velasquez, governor of Cuba, who had fitted out this 
expedition, now determined to attempt the conquest of the wealthy 
country that had been discovered, and prepared an expedition of ten 
vessels, manned by six hundred and seventeen men, which he placed 
under the command of Hernando Cortes, an adventurous cavalier who 
had already shown much military ability. He landed in Mexico on 
March 4, 1519, where his ships, his horses, and his artillery filled the 
natives with wonder and terror and caused them to regard the Span- 
iards as divine beings. After several victories over the natives, who 
were repulsed with great slaughter, Cortes founded the city of Vera 
Cruz, burned his vessels to cut ofl" all thought of retreat from the 
minds of his soldiers, and commenced his march towards the Mexican 
capital. He was opposed by the people of Tlascala, enemies of the 



70 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Prescott 

Aztecs, but he conquered this warlike republic and converted its in- 
nabitants into useful auxiliaries. In the city of Cholula, where an 
ambuscade had been laid for him, he defeated his enemies with terrible 
slaughter. He finally reached the city of Mexico, which was situated 
on an island in a lake and connected by causeways with the mainland. 
Here he took Montezuma, the Aztec emperor, prisoner, and converted 
one of his palaces into a fortress. Velasquez had, meanwhile, sent an 
expedition under Narvaez to deprive Cortes of his command. Leav- 
ing two hundred men in the city, he marched against Narvaez, defeated 
Uim, and enlisted his men under his own banner. During his absence 
the Mexicans attacked the Spanish garrison. Their attacks were con- 
tinued after the return of Cortes with such fury that Montezuma was 
mortally wounded by his own subjects, and many of the Spaniards were 
slain. So persistent and threatening became the Mexican assaults that 
the invaders found themselves in imminent peril of being entirely de- 
stroyed, and their leader was forced to order a retreat. There is noth- 
ing more exciting in fiction than the story of this ten-ible night march, 
the "noehe triste" of Spanish historians. We give it in Prescott's 
eloquent description from his " Conquest of Mexico."] 

The general's first care was to provide for the safe trans- 
portation of the treasure. Many of the common soldiers 
had converted their share of the prize, as we have seen, 
into gold chains, collars, or other ornaments, which they 
easily carried about their persons. But the royal fifth, 
together with that of Cortes himself, and much of the 
rich booty of the principal cavaliers, had been converted 
into bars and wedges of solid gold and deposited in one 
of the strong apartments of the palace. Cortes delivered 
the share belonging to the crown to the royal oflicers, as- 
signing them one of the strongest horses, and a guard of 
Castilian soldiers, to transport it. Still, much of the treas- 
ure, belonging both to the crown and to individuals, was 
necessarily abandoned, from the want of adequate means 
of conveyance. The metal lay scattered in shining heaps 
along the floor, exciting the cupidity of the soldiers. 
■• Take what you will of it," said Cortes to his men. 



Prescott] retreat OF CORTES. 71 

" Better you should have it, than these Mexican hounds. 
But be careful not to overload yourselves. He travels 
safest in the dark night M'ho travels lightest." His own 
more wary followers took heed to his counsel, helping 
themselves to a few articles of least bulk, though, it might 
be, of greatest value. But the troops of Narvaez, pining 
for riches of which they had heard so much and hitherto 
seen so little, showed no such discretion. To them it 
seemed as if the very mines of Mexico were turned up 
before them, and, rushing on the treacherous spoil, they 
greedily loaded themselves with as much of it, not merely 
as they could accommodate about their persons, but as 
they could stow away in wallets, boxes, or any other 
means of conveyance at their disposal. 

Cortes next arranged the order of march. The van, 
composed of two hundred Spanish foot, he placed under 
the command of the valiant Gonzalo de Sandoval, sup- 
ported by Diego de Ordaz, Francisco de Lujo, and about 
twenty other cavaliers. The rear-guard, constituting the 
strength of the infantrj", was intrusted to Pedro de Alva- 
rado and Velasquez de Leon. The general himself took 
charge of the •' battle," or centre, in which went the bag- 
gage, some of the heavy guns, — most of which, however, 
remained in the rear, — the treasure, and the prisoners. 
These consisted of a son and two daughters of Monte- 
zuma, Cacama, the deposed lord of Tezcuco, and several 
other nobles, whom Cortes retained as important pledges 
in his future negotiations with the enemy. The Tlascalans 
were distributed prett}' equally among the three divisions ; 
and Cortes had under his immediate command a hundred 
picked soldiers, his own veterans most attached to his 
service, who, with Cristoval de Olid, Francisco de Morla, 
Alonso de Avila, and two or three other cavaliers, formed 
a select corps, to act wherever occasion might require. 



72 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Prescott 

The general had already superintended the construction 
of a portable bridge to be laid over the open canals in the 
causeway. This was given in charge to an officer named 
Magarino, with fort}' soldiers under his orders, all pledged 
to defend the passage to the last extremity. The bridge 
was to be taken up wdien the entire army had crossed one 
of the breaches, and transported to the next. There were 
three of these openings in the causeway, and most fortu- 
nate would it have been for the expedition if the fore- 
sight of the commander had provided the same number 
of bridges. But the labor would have been great, and 
time was short. 

At midnight the troops were under arms, in readiness 
for the march. Mass was performed by Father Olmedo, 
who invoked the protection of the Almighty through 
the awful perils of the night. The gates were thrown 
open, and on the 1st of July, 1520, the Spaniards for the 
last time sallied forth from the walls of the ancient for- 
tress, the scene of so much suffering and such indomitable 
courage. 

The night was cloudy, and a drizzling rain, which fell 
without intermission, added to the obscurity. The great 
square before the palace was deserted, as, indeed, it had 
been since the fall of Montezuma. Steadily, and as noise- 
lessly as possible, the Spaniards held their way along the 
great street of Tlacopan, which so lately had resounded 
with the tumult of battle. All was now hushed in silence ; 
and the}^ were only reminded of the past by the occasional 
presence of some solitary corpse, or a dark heap of the 
slain, which too plainly told where the strife had been hot- 
test. As they passed along the lanes and alleys which 
opened into the great street, or looked down the canals, 
whose polished surface gleamed with a sort of ebon lustre 
through the obscurity of night, they easily fancied that 



Prescott] retreat OF CORTES. 73 

they discerned the shadowy forms of their foe lurking in 
ambush and ready to spring on thera. But it was only 
fancy; and the city slept undisturbed even by the pro- 
longed echoes of the tramp of the horses and the hoarse 
rumbling of the artillery and baggage-trains. At length 
a lighter space beyond the dusky line of buildings showed 
the van of the army that it was emerging on the open 
causeway. They might well have congratulated them- 
selves on having thus escaped the dangers of an assault 
in the city itself, and that a brief time would place them 
in comparative safety on the opposite shore. But the 
Mexicans were not all asleep. 

As the Spaniards drew near the spot where the street 
opened on the causeway, and were preparing to lay the 
portable bridge across the uncovered breach, which now 
met their eyes, several Indian sentinels, who had been 
stationed at this, as at the other approaches to the city, 
took the alarm and fled, rousing their countrymen by 
their cries. The priests, keeping their night-watch on 
the summit of the teocalUs, instantly caught the tidings 
and sounded their shells, while the huge drum in the 
desolate temple of the war-god sent forth those solemn 
tones which, heard only in seasons of calamity, vibrated 
through every corner of the capital. The Spaniards saw 
that no time was to be lost. The bridge was brought 
forward and fitted with all possible expedition. Sandoval 
was the first to try its strength, and, riding across, was 
followed by his little body of chivalry, his infantry, and 
Tlascalan allies, who formed the first division of the 
army. Then came Cortes and his squadrons, with the 
baggage, ammunition-wagons, and a part of the artillery. 
But before they had time to defile across the narrow pas- 
sage, a gathering sound was heard, like that of a mighty 
forest agitated by the winds. It grew louder and louder, 

I— D 7 



74 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Prescott 

while on the dark waters of the hike was heard a plash- 
ing noise, as of many oars. Then came a few stones and 
arrows striking at random among the hurrying troops. 
They fell every moment faster and more furious, till they 
thickened into a terrible tempest, while the very heavens 
were rent with the yells and war-cries of myriads of com- 
batants, who seemed all at once to be swarming over land 
and lake ! 

The Spaniards pushed steadily on through this arrow}' 
sleet, though the barbarians, dashing their canoes against 
the sides of the causeway, clambered up and broke in 
upon their ranks. But the Christians, anxious only to 
make their escape, declined all combat except for self- 
preservation. The cavaliers, spurring forward their steeds, 
shook off their assailants and rode over their prostrate 
bodies, while the men on foot with their good swords or 
the butts of their pieces drove them headlong again down 
the sides of the dike. 

But the advance of several thousand men, marching, 
probably, on a front of not more than fifteen or twenty 
abreast, necessarily required much time, and the leading 
files had already reached the second breach in the cause- 
way before those in the rear had entirely traversed the 
fii-st. Here they halted, as they had no means of effect- 
ing a passage, smarting all the while under unintermit- 
ting volleys from the enemy, who were clustered thick 
on the waters around this second opening. Sorelj^ dis- 
tressed, the vanguard sent repeated messages to the rear 
to demand the portable bridge. At length the last of the 
army had crossed, and Magarino and his sturdy followers 
endeavored to raise the ponderous framework. But it 
stuck fast in the sides of the dike. In vain they strained 
every nerve. The weight of so many men and horses, and 
above all of the heavy artillery, had wedged the timbers 



Prescott] retreat OF CORTES. 75 

80 firmly in the stones and earth that it was beyond their 
power to dislodge them. Still they labored amidst a tor- 
rent of missiles, until, many of them slain, and all wounded, 
they were obliged to abandon the attempt. 

The tidings soon spread from man to man, and no 
sooner was their dreadful import comprehended than a 
cry of despair arose, which for a moment drowned all 
the noise of conflict. All means of retreat were cut off. 
Scarcely hope was left. The only hope was in such desper- 
ate exertions as each could make for himself. Order and 
subordination were at an end. Intense danger produced 
intense selfishness. Each thought only of his own life. 
Pressing forward, he trampled down the weak and the 
wounded, heedless whether it were friend or foe. The 
leading files, urged on by the rear, were crowded on the 
brink of the gulf Sandoval, Ordaz, and the other cavaliers 
dashed into the water. Some succeeded in swimming 
their horses across. Others failed, and some, who reached 
the opposite bank, being overturned in the ascent, rolled 
headlong with their steeds into the lake. The infantry 
followed pell-mell, heaped promiscuously on one anothei, 
frequently pierced by the shafts or struck down b}' the 
war-clubs of the Aztecs ; while many an unfortunate vic- 
tim was dragged half stunned on board their canoes, to 
be reserved for a protracted but more dreadful death. 

The carnage raged fearfully along the length of the 
causeway. Its shadowy bulk presented a mark of suf- 
ficient distinctness for the enemy's missiles, which often 
prostrated their own countrymen in the blind fury of the 
tempest. Those nearest the dike, running their canoes 
alongside with a force that shattered them to piec^es, 
leaped on the land, and grappled with the Christians, 
until both came rolling down the side of the causeway 
together. But the Aztec fell among his friends, while 



76 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Prescott 

his antagonist was borne away in triumph to the sacrifice. 
The struggle was long and deadly. The Mexicans were 
recognized by their white cotton tunics, which showed 
faint through the darkness. Above the combatants rose 
a wild and discordant clamor, in which horrid shouts of 
vengeance were mingled with groans of agonj^, with invo- 
cations of the saints and the blessed Virgin, and with the 
screams of women ; for there were several women, both 
natives and Spaniards, who had accompanied the Chris- 
tian camp. Among these, one named Maria de Estrada 
is particularly noticed for the courage she displayed, bat- 
tling with broadsword and target like the stanchest of the 
warriors. 

The opening in the causeway, meanwhile, was filled up 
with the wreck of matter which had been forced into it, — 
ammunition-wagons, heavj^ guns, bales of rich stuffs scat- 
tered over the waters, chests of solid ingots, and bodies 
of men and horses, till over this dismal ruin a j^assage 
was gradually formed, hj which those in the rear were 
enabled to clamber to the other side. Cortes, it is said, 
found a place that was fordable, where, halting, with the 
water up to his saddle-girths, he endeavored to check the 
confusion and lead his followers by a safer path to the 
opposite bank. But his voice was lost in the wild uproar, 
and finally, hurrying on with the tide, he pressed for- 
wards with a few trusty cavaliers, who remained near his 
person, to the van ; but not before he had seen his favorite 
page, Juan de Solazar, struck down, a corpse, by his side. 
Here he found Sandoval and his companions, halting be- 
fore the third and last breach, endeavoring to cheer on 
their followers to surmount it. But their resolution fal- 
tered. It was wide and deep ; though the passage was 
not so closely beset by the enemy as the preceding ones. 
The cavaliers again set the example by j)lur]ging into 



Prescott] retreat OF CORTES. 'J'J 

the water. Horse and., foot followed as they could, some 
swimming, others with dying grasp clinging to the manes 
and tails of the struggling animals. Those fared best, as 
the general had predicted, who travelled lightest ; and 
many were the unfortunate wretches who, weighed down 
by the fatal gold which they loved so well, were buried 
with it in the salt floods of the lake. Cortes, with his 
gallant comrades, Olid, Morla, Sandoval, and some few 
others, still kept in the advance, leading his broken rem- 
nant off the fatal causeway. The din of battle lessened 
in the distance ; when the rumor reached them that the 
rear-guard would be wholly overwhelmed without speedy 
relief. It seemed almost an act of desperation ; but the 
generous hearts of the Spanish cavaliers did not stop to 
calculate danger when the cry for succor reached them. 
Turning their horses' bridles, they galloped back to the 
theatre of action, worked their way through the press, 
swam the canal, and placed themselves in the thick of the 
melee on the opposite bank. 

The first gray of the morning was now coming over the 
waters. It showed the hideous confusion of the scene 
which had been shrouded in the obscurity of night. The 
dark masses of combatants, stretching along the dike, 
were seen struggling for mastery, until the very cause- 
way on which they stood appeared to tremble and reel to 
and fro, as if shaken by an earthquake, while the bosom 
of the lake, as far as the eye could reach, was darkened 
by canoes crowded with warriors, whose spears and blud- 
geons, armed with blades of " volcanic glass," gleamed in 
the morning light. 

The cavaliers found Alvarado unhorsed, and defending 
himself with a poor handful of followers against an over- 
w^helming tide of the enemy. His good steed, which had 
borne him through many a hard fight, had fallen under 



78 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Pbescott 

him. He was himself wounded in several places, and was 
striving in vain to rally his scattered column, which was 
driven to the verge of the canal by the fury of the enemy, 
then in possession of the whole rear of the causeway, 
where they were reinforced every hour by fresh com- 
batants from the city. The artillery in the earlier part 
of the engagement had not been idle, and its iron shower, 
sweeping along the dike, had mowed down the assailants 
by hundreds. But nothing could resist their impetuosity. 
The front ranks, pushed on by those behind, were at length 
forced up to the pieces, and, pouring over them like a tor- 
rent, overthrew men and guns in one general rvain. The 
resolute charge of the Spanish cavaliers, who had now 
arrived, created a temporary check, and gave time for 
their countrymen to make a feeble rally. But they were 
speedily borne down by the returning flood. Cortes and 
his companions were compelled to plunge again into the 
lake, — though all did not escape. Alvarado stood on the 
brink for a moment hesitating what to do. Unhorsed as 
he was, to throw himself into the water in the face of 
the hostile canoes that now swarmed around the opening 
afforded but a desperate chance of safety. He had but a 
second for thought. He was a man of powerful frame, 
and despair gave him unnatural energy. Setting his long 
lance firmly on the wreck which strewed the bottom of 
the lake, he sprung forward with all his might, and cleared 
the wide gap at a leap ! Aztecs and Tlascalans gazed in 
stupid amazement, exclaiming, as they beheld the incredi- 
ble feat, " This is truly the Tonatiuh, — the child of the 
Sun!" The breadth of the opening is not given. But it 
was so great that the valorous captain, Diaz, who well re- 
membered the place, says the leap was impossible to any 
man. Other contemporaries, however, do not discredit 
the story. It was, beyond doubt, matter of popular be 



Prescott] retreat OF CORTES. 79 

lief at the time ; it is to this day familiarly known to 
every inhabitant of the capital ; and the name of the 
Salto de Alvarado, " Alvarado's Leap," given to the spot, 
still commemorates an exploit which rivalled those of 
the demi-gods of Grecian fable. 

Cortes and his companions now rode forward to the 
front, where the troops, in a loose, disorderly manner, 
were marching off the fatal causeway. A few only of the 
enemy hung on their rear, or annoyed them by occasional 
flights of arrows from the lake. The attention of the 
Aztecs was diverted by the rich spoil that strewed the 
battle-ground; fortunately for the Spaniards, who, had 
their enemy pursued with the same ferocity with which 
he had fought, would, in their crippled condition, have 
been cut off, probably, to a man. But little molested, 
therefore, they were allowed to defile through the adja- 
cent village, or suburbs, it might be called, of Popotla. 

The Spanish commander there dismounted from his 
jaded steed, and, sitting down on the steps of an Indian 
temple, gazed mournfully on the broken files as they passed 
before him. What a spectacle did they present! The 
cavalry, most of them dismounted, were mingled with the 
infantry, who dragged their feeble limbs along with diffi- 
culty ; their shattered mail and tattered garments drip- 
ping with the salt ooze, showing through their rents 
many a bruise and ghastly wound; their bright arms 
soiled, their proud crests and banners gone, the baggage, 
artillery, all, in short, that constitutes the pride and pan- 
oply of glorious war, forever lost. Cortes, as he looked 
wistfully on their thin and disordered ranks, sought in 
vain for many a familiar face, and missed more than one 
dear companion who had stood side by side with him 
through all the perils of the Conquest. Though accus- 
tomed to control his emotions, or, at least, to conceal 



80 AMERICAN HISTORY. [D'Anvers 

them, the sight was too much for him. He covered his 
face with his hands, and the tears which trickled down 
revealed too plainly the anguish of his soul. 

[The story of the conquest of Mexico may be briefly concluded. 
Cortes, in his retreat, found himself opposed by a vastly outnumber- 
ing army, filling a valley through which he was forced to pass. A 
desperate conflict ensued, in which the Spaniards were in imminent 
danger of annihilation, when Cortes, followed by his bravest cavaliers, 
spurred to the point where the great Aztec standard rose in the centre 
of the army, cut down the general, and seized the imperial banner. 
On seeing their standard fall, the army at once broke into a panic and 
fled in all directions, leaving free passage to the remnant of the Span- 
ish force. Cortes proceeded to the coast, where he received reinforce- 
ments, and returned to besiege the city. It was defended with des- 
perate determination, and yielded only after a siege of several months, 
when the city was nearly levelled with the ground, and after the in- 
habitants had endured the extremities of famine. The submission of 
the city was that of the empire, and the Aztecs experienced the fate 
which had been visited upon the natives in the other Spanish colonies.] 



HERNANDO DE SOTO. 

N. D'ANVERS. 

[The activity of the Spanish adventurers in their search for gold 
was unceasing, and this eager desire for riches led to a far more rapid 
exploration of the American continent than could have been accom- 
plished under any other incitement. It was this that led Balboa in 
his perilous journey across the Isthmus, and that was the inciting 
cause of the remarkable achievements of Cortes and Pizarro. The 
same wild thirst for wealth led a succession of bold adventurers north- 
ward, and gave rise to an extended exploration of the territory of the 
southern United States. The earliest of these was Juan Ponce de 
Leon, who in 1512 discovered a country which he named Florida, 
either because he first saw it on Easter Sunday {Pascua florida), or on 



D'Anveks] HERNANDO DE SOTO. 81 

account of its beautiful appearance. He made several efforts to land, 
but was driven off by the warlike natives. 

In the words of Robertson, '• It was not merely the passion of 
searching for new countries that prompted Ponce de Leon to under- 
take this voyage ; he was influenced by one of those visionary ideas 
which at that time often mingled with the spirit of discovery and 
rendered it more active. A tradition prevailed among the natives of 
Puerto Kico, that in the isle of Bimini, one of the Lucayos, there was 
a fountain of such wonderful virtue as to renew the youth and recall 
the vigor of every person who bathed in its salutary waters. In 
hopes of finding this grand restorative, Ponce de Leon and his follow- 
ers ranged through the islands, searching, with fruitless solicitude and 
labor, for the fountain which was the chief object of their expedition. 
That a tale so fabulous should gain credit among simple uninstructed 
Indians is not surprising. That it should make any impression upon 
an enlightened people appears, in the present age, altogether incredi- 
ble. The fact, however, is certain ; and the most authentic Spanish 
historians mention this extravagant sally of their credulous country- 
men. The Spaniards, at that period, were engaged in a career of 
activity which gave a romantic turn to their imagination and daily 
presented to them strange and marvellous objects. A new world was 
opened to their view. They visited islands and continents of whose 
existence mankind in former ages had no conception. In those de- 
lightful countries nature seemed to assume another form ; every tree 
and plant and animal was different from those of the ancient hemi- 
sphere. They seemed to be transported into enchanted ground ; and, 
after the wonders which they had seen, nothing, in the warmth and 
novelty of their imagination, appeared to them so extraordinary as to 
be beyond belief. If the rapid succession of new and striking scenes 
made such impression upon the sound understanding of Columbus 
that he boasted of having found the seat of Paradise, it will not ap- 
pear strange that Ponce de Leon should dream of discovering the 
fountain of youth." 

Ponce de Leon was killed by the Indians in a second visit to Florida 
in 1521. In 1518 Francisco Garay cruised along the whole Gulf coast, 
passing the mouth of the Mississippi, — the Miche Sepe, or Father of 
Waters, of the Indians. In 1520, Lucas Vasquez de Ayllon sailed 
from Cuba in quest of a land called Chicora, north of Florida, said to 
possess a sacred stream whose waters had the miraculous virtue of those 
of the Fountain of Youth. He carried off some of the Indians, in 
i.—f 



82 AMERICAN HISTORY. [D' An vers 

reprisal for which he was attacked in a second expedition and many 
of his men killed, perhaps himself among the number. In 1528, 
Pamphilo de ISTarvaez made an etfort to take possession of this land 
in the name of Charles V. of Germany. He met, however, with such 
determined opposition from the Indians that after months of fruitless 
wandering he reached the shores of the Gulf, bringing with him but 
a miserable remnant of his six hundred followers. Here five crazy 
boats were built, and the reckless adventurers sought to follow the line 
of the coast to the Mexican settlements. Four of the boats were lost 
in a storm, and the survivors, landing, sought to cross the continent to 
the province of Sonora, already colonized by Spaniards. Four of the 
party, after being held for years in captivity by the Indians, succeeded 
in this enterprise, among them CabcQa de Yaca, treasurer of the ex- 
pedition. Their appearance at the mining settlement on the shores of 
the Gulf of California caused the greatest astonishment, and on reach- 
ing Europe, nine years after the starting of the original expedition, 
they were received with the utmost enthusiasm. We give the story of 
De Soto in an extract from " Heroes of American Discovery," by N. 
D'Anvers.] 

The excitement caused by the wonderful tales of their 
captivitj^, told by Cabe§a and his comrades, was, as may 
be imagined, intense. Far from damping the ardor of 
others for exploration and colonization, the pictures called 
up by their narrative of hair-breadth escapes, of the magic 
influence exercised on whole tribes of dusky warriors by 
a single white man, of the weird growths of the tropical 
forests, and of the wild beauty of the Indian maidens, 
created a passion for adventure amongst the youth of 
Spain. When, therefore, the renowned Hernando de Soto, 
who had been in close attendance on Pizarro throughout 
his romantic career in Peru, asked for and obtained per- 
mission from Ferdinand of Spain to take possession of 
Florida in his name, hundreds of volunteers of every rank 
flocked to his standard. Narvaez had failed for want of 
knowledge as to how to deal with the natives ; doubtless 
the land of gold could yet be found by those who knew 



D'Anvers] HERNANDO DE SOTO. 83 

how to wrest the secret of its position from the sons of the 
soil ; and so once more a gallant company set forth from 
Spain to measure their strength against the craft of the 
poor Indians of Florida. 

-De Soto, who was in the first place appointed governor 
of Cuba that he might turn to account the resources of 
that wealthy island, sailed from Havana with a fleet of 
nine vessels and a force of some six or seven hundred men 
on the 18th May, 1539, and cast anchor in Tampa Bay on 
the 30th of the same month. Landing his forces at once, 
the leader gave orders that they should start for the 
interior immediately, by the same route as that taken by 
his unfortunate predecessor; and the men were eagerly 
ploughing their way through the sandy, marshy districts 
immediately beyond the beach, driving the natives who 
opposed their progress before them, when one of those 
romantic incidents occurred in which the early history of 
the New "World is so remarkably rich. 

A white man on horseback rode forward from amongst 
the dusky savages, who hailed the approach of the troops 
with wild gestures of delight, and turned out to be a 
Spaniard named Juan Ortiz, who had belonged to the 
Narvaez expedition and had been unable to effect his 
escape with his comrades. In his captivity amongst the 
Indians he had acquired a. thorough knowledge of their 
language, and his services alike as a mediator and a guide 
were soon found to be invaluable. 

[The story told by Ortiz of his adventures in captivity may be 
briefly given. It had been decided by his captors to burn him alive 
by a slow fire, as a sacrifice to the Evil Spirit. He was accordingly 
bound hand and foot and laid on a wooden stage, with a fire kindled 
beneath it. At that moment of frightful peril the daughter of the 
chieftain begged for his life from her father, and succeeded in winning 
a change of sentence from death to slavery. Three years later he was 



84 AMERICAN HISTORY. [D'Anvers 

again condemned to be burned, and again saved by the chieftain's 
daughter, who warned him of his danger, and led him to the camp 
of another chief. Here he remained until the an-ival of the Spaniards. 
As for the maiden, Ortiz says nothing further concerning her. 

Led by Ortiz, the exploring army wandered through the unknown 
land of Florida until the ensuing spring, when the march was resumed 
under the guidance of a native who said he would take the white men 
to a distant country, governed by a woman, and abounding in a yellow 
metal, which the Spaniards naturally took to be gold, but which proved 
to be copper. After wandering to the southern slope of the Appa- 
lachian range, marking their course by pillage and bloodshed, and 
finding the land of gold ever receding before them, they reached the 
dominions of an Indian queen, who hastened to welcome them, per- 
haps with the desire of conciliating her dreaded visitors.] 

Yeiy touching is the account given by the old chroni- 
clers of the meeting between the poor cacica and De Soto. 
Alighting from the litter in which she had travelled, car- 
ried by four of her subjects, the dusky princess came 
forward with gestures expressive of pleasure at the arrival 
of her guest, and taking from her own neck a heavy 
double string of pearls, she hung it on that of the Spaniard. 
Bowing with courtly grace, De Soto accepted the gift, and 
for a short time he kept up the semblance of friendship ; 
but having obtained from the queen all the information he 
wanted, he made her his prisoner, and robbed her and her 
people of all the valuables they possessed, including large 
numbers of pearls, found chiefly in the graves of natives 
of distinction. We are glad to be able to add that the 
poor queen effected her escape from her guards, taking 
with her a box of pearls which she had managed to regain 
and on which De Soto had set especial store. 

The home of the cacica appears to have been situated 
close to the Atlantic seaboard, and to have been amongst 
the villages visited by De Ayllon twenty years previ- 
ously, the natives having in their possession a dagger and 



D'Anvers] HERNANDO DE SOTO. 85 

a string of beads, probably a rosary, which they said had 
belonged to the white men. Unwilling to go over old 
ground, the Spaniards now determined to alter their 
course, and, taking a northwesterly direction, they reached, 
in the course of a few months, the first spurs of the lofty 
Appalachian range, the formidable aspect of which so 
damped their courage that they turned back and wan- 
dered into the lowlands of what is now Alabama, ignorant 
that in the very mountains they so much dreaded were 
hidden large quantities of that yellow metal they had 
sought so long and so vainly. 

The autumn of 1540 found the party, their numbers 
greatly diminished, at a large village called Mavilla, close 
to the site of the modern Mobile, where the natives were 
gathered in considerable force ; and it soon became evi- 
dent that an attempt would be made to exact vengeance 
for the long course of oppression of which the white in- 
truders had been guilty in their two j^ears' wanderings. 

Intending to take possession of Mavilla in his usual 
high-handed manner, De Soto and a few of his men en- 
tered the palisades forming its defences, accompanied by 
the cacique, who, meek enough until he was within reach 
of his warriors, then turned upon his guests with some 
insulting speech and disappeared in a neighboring house. 
A dispute then ensued between a minor chief and one of 
the Spaniards. The latter enforced his view of the mat- 
ter at issue by a blow with his cutlass, and in an instant 
the town was in a commotion. From every house poured 
showers of arrows, and in a few minutes nearly all the 
Christians were slain. De Soto and a few others escaped, 
and, calling his forces together, the Spanish governor 
quickly invested the town. 

A terrible conflict, lasting nine hours, ensued, in which, 
as was almost inevitable, the white men were finally vic- 
I. 8 



86 AMERICAN HISTORY. [D'Anvers 

torious, though not until they had lost many valuable 
lives and nearly all their property. Mavilla was burnt to 
ashes ; and when the battle was over, the Spaniards found 
themselves in an awful situation, — at a distance fx'om 
their ships, without food or medicines, and surrounded on 
all sides by enemies rendered desperate by defeat. The 
common soldiers, too, had by this time had enough of ex- 
ploration, and were eager to retui-n to the coast, there to 
await the return of the vessels which had been sent to 
Cuba for supplies. Evading the poor fellows' questions as 
to his plans, however, De Soto, who had received secret 
intelligence that his fleet was even now awaiting him in 
the Bay of Pensacola, but six days' journey from Mavilla, 
determined to make one more effort to redeem his honor 
by a discovery of importance. With this end in view he 
led his disheartened forces northward, and in December 
I'eached a small village, belonging to Chickasaw Indians, 
in the State of Mississippi, supposed to have been situated 
about N. lat. 32° 53', W. long. 90° 23'. 

In spite of constant petty hostilities with the Indians, 
the winter, which was severe enough for snow to fall, 
passed over peaceably ; but with the beginning of spring 
the usual arbitrary proceedings were resorted to by De 
Soto for procuring porters to carry his baggage in his 
next trip, and this led to a second terrible fight, in which 
the Spaniards were worsted and narrowly escaped extermi- 
nation. Had the Indians followed up their victor}^, not a 
white man would have escaped to tell the tale ; but ihey 
seem to have been frightened at their own success, and to 
have drawn back just as they had their persecutors at 
their feet. 

Rallying the remnant of his forces, and suj^plying the 
place of the uniforms which had been carried off by 
the enemy with skins and mats of ivy leaves, De Soto 



DAnvers] HERNANDO DE SOTO. 87 

now led his strangely-transformed followers in a noru- 
westerly direction, and, completely crossing the modern 
State of Mississippi, arrived in May on the banks of the 
mighty river from which it takes its name, in about N. 
lat. 35°. 

Thus took place the discovery of the great Father of 
Waters, rolling by in unconscious majesty on its way from 
its distant birthplace in Minnesota to its final home in 
the Gulf of Mexico. To De Soto, however, it was no geo- 
graphical phenomenon, inviting him to trace its course 
and solve the secret of its origin, but a sheet of water, 
" half a league over," impeding his progi-ess, and his fii-st 
care was to obtain boats to get to the other side. 

[His succeeding movements may be epitomized. Building barges 
capable of carrying their horses, the Spaniards crossed the stream, and 
immediately opened hostilities with the Indians on the other side. They 
proceeded northward, constantly harassed by the natives, until they 
reached the region of the present State of Missouri, whose inhabitants 
took them for children of the Sun and brought out their blind to be 
restored to sight. After some missionary labors witli these Indians, De 
Soto proceeded westward, and encamped for the winter about the site 
of Little Rock, in Arkansas, after having reached the highlands of 
southwest Missouri, near the White Eiver.] 

But on resuming his researches in the ensuing spring, 
though worn out by continual wanderings and warfare, 
and deprived by death of his chief helper, Juan Ortiz, the 
indomitable explorer now endeavored to win over the In- 
dians by claiming supernatural powers and declaring him- 
self immortal ; but it was too late to inaugurate a new 
policy. The spot chosen for encampment turned out to 
be unhealthy ; the white men began to succumb to disease ; 
scouts sent out to explore the neighborhood for a more 
favorable situation brought back rumors of howling wil- 
dernesses, impenetrable woods, and, worst of all, of stealthy 



88 AMERICAN HISTORY. [D'Anvers 

bands of Indians creeping up from every side to hem in 
and destroy the little knot of white men. 

Thus driven to bay, De Soto, who was now himself 
either attacked by disease or broken down by all he had 
undergone, determined at least to die like a man, and, 
calling the survivors of his once gallant company about 
him, he asked pardon for the evils he had brought upon 
those who had trusted in him, and named Lixis Moscoso 
de Alvaredo as his successor. 

On the following day. May 21, 1542, the unfortunate 
hero breathed his last, and was almost immediately buried 
secretly without the gates of the camp, Alvaredo fearing 
an immediate onslaught from the natives should the death 
of the hero who had claimed immortality be discovered. 
The newly-made grave, however, excited suspicion, and, 
finding it impossible to prevent it from being rifled by the 
inquisitive savages, Alvaredo had the corpse of his prede- 
cessor removed from it in the night, wrapped in cloths 
made heavy with sand, and drojjped from a boat into the 
Mississippi. 

The midnight funeral over, all further queries from the 
natives, as to what had become of the Child of the Sun, 
were answered by an assurance that he had gone to heaven 
for a time, but would soon return. Then, whilst the ex- 
pected return was still waited for, the camp was broken 
up as quietly as possible, and Alvaredo led his people west- 
ward, hoping, as CabcQa had done before him, to reach the 
Pacific coast. 

But, long months of wandering in pathless prairies 
bringing him apparently no nearer to the sea, and dread- 
ing to be overtaken in the wilderness by the winter, he 
turned back and retraced his steps to the Mississippi, 
where he once more pitched his camp, and spent six 
months in building boats, in which he hoped to go down 



McMuLLEN] DISCOVERF OF THE ST. LAWRENCE. 89 

the river to its outlet in the Gulf of Mexico. In this bold 
scheme he was successful. The embai'kation into seven 
roughly-constructed brigantines took place on the 2d 
July, 1543, and a voyage of seventeen days between banks 
lined with hostile Indians, who plied them unceasingly 
with their poisoned arrows, brought a few haggard, half- 
naked survivors to the longed-for gulf Fifty days later, 
after a weary cruise along the rugged coasts of what is 
now Louisiana and Texas, a party, still further reduced, 
landed at the Spanish settlement of Panuco, in Mexico, 
where they were received as men risen from the dead. 



THE DISCOVERY OF THE ST. LAWRENCE. 

JOHN McMULLEN. 

[The voyages of discovery to the northern coast of North America 
began with the expedition of John Cabot, in 1497, under the auspices 
of Henry VII. of England. His object was to seek not alone for new 
lands, but also for that northwest passage to the coast of Asia which 
gave rise to so many subsequent voyages to the Arctic seas. On the 
26th of June, Cabot discovered land, most probably the island of 
Newfoundland. Continuing his coui-se, he reached the coast of Lab- 
rador on the 3d of July. He was, therefore, the first of modern 
navigators to discover the continent of America, which was not reached 
by Columbus till some thirteen months afterwards. He explored the 
coast for nine hundred miles to the southward, and returned to Eng- 
land. In the following year his son Sebastian made a voyage to the 
same region, with similar instructions to search for a northwest passage. 
The same object was sought, in 1527, by a fleet sent out bj' Henry VIII. 

The Portuguese also made early voyages in search of this illusory 
northwest passage. Gaspar Cortereal, in 1500, reached the American 
coast at fifty degrees of north latitude. On a second voyage his ship 
was lost, and his brother Miguel, who went in search of him, failed 
also to return. 

I. 8* 



90 AMERICAN HISTORY. [McMullen 

In 1524, Francis I. of France resolved to have his share in these dis- 
coveries, and in the benefits which might result from them. " What !" 
said he to his courtiers, "shall the kings of Spain and Portugal divide 
all America between them, without suflering me to taiie a share as their 
brother ? I would fain see the article in Adam's will that bequeaths that 
vast inheritance to them." Already some fishing captains had partly 
explored the coast. The fishermen of Breton have left their record of 
discovery in the name of Cape Breton. John Denys explored the 
Gulf of St. Lawrence as early as 1506. These hardy fishermen formed 
useful crews for succeeding voj'ages of discovery. Francis prepared a 
squadron of four ships, which he placed under command of Giovanni 
Verrazano, an experienced Italian navigator, who explored the Amer- 
ican coast from Carolina northward, probably visiting New York and 
Narragansett Bays. He also was in search of a passage to India, and 
became convinced that no such passage existed, and that the continent 
was continuous from the Straits of Magellan to Labrador. An ac- 
count of the succeeding French expedition, that of Cartier, we extract 
from " The History of Canada," by John McMullen.] 

In 1534 the French king fitted out a second expedition, 
the conduct of which he intrusted to Jacques Cartier, a 
fearless and skilful mariner, who had previously been 
engaged for several years in the fisheries on the Banks of 
Newfoundland, which even as early as 1517 already gave 
employment to some fifty English, French, Spanish, and 
Portuguese vessels. This expedition, consisting of two 
vessels of sixty tons each, sailed from St. Malo on the 
20th of April, and on the 10th of May arrived at New- 
foundland, where it remained ten days. Proceeding north- 
ward, Cartier passed through the Straits of Belleisle, 
entered the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and landed at Gaspe, 
where, on the 24th of July, he erected a cross, surmounted 
by a fleur-de-lys, to commemorate his advent on the coast. 
A friendly intercourse with the natives enabled him to 
kidnap two men, with whom he sailed for France, where, 
on his arrival, he was well received by his sovereign. 

In the followin"- vear Cartier obtained a new commie ■ 



McMullen] disco VERF OF THE ST. LAWRENCE. 91 

sion from Francis, and sailed with three vessels direct for 
the Gulf of St. Lawrence, with instructions to explore its 
shores carefully, to establish a settlement, if at all practi- 
cable, and to opeu a traflSc for gold with the inhabitants. 
In the month of August, on the festival day of the martyr 
Lawrence, this navigator entered the great father of the 
northern waters, which he called after the saint. Pro- 
ceeding up its course, he found himself, in a few days, 
opposite the Indian village of Stadacona, then occupy- 
ing a portion of the ground on which the city of Quebec 
now stands. As the vessels came to an anchor the ter- 
rified natives fled to the forest, whence they gazed, with 
mingled feelings of awe and wonder, on the " winged 
canoes" which had borne the pale-faced strangers to their 
shores. These feelings were, however, much less intense 
than they must have otherwise been, owing to the rumors 
which from time to time had preceded Cartier's approach, 
and to the fact that they were well acquainted with the 
circumstance of his visit to Gaspe the previous year, and 
the outrage he had there perpetrated on their countrymen. 
This knowledge led the inhabitants of Stadacona to re- 
solve on a war}^ intercourse with the strangers. Their 
chief, Donacona, approached the vessels with a fleet of 
twelve canoes, filled with his armed followers. Ten of 
these canoes he directed to remain at a short distance, 
while he proceeded with the other two to ascertain the 
purport of the visit, — whether it was for peace or war. 
With this object in view, he commenced an oration. 
Cartier heard the chief patiently, and with the aid of the 
two Gaspe Indians, now tolerably proficient in the French 
language, he was enabled to open a conversation with him, 
and to allay his apprehensions. An amicable understand- 
ing having thus been established, Cartier moored his 
vessels safely in the river St. Charles, where, shortly 






92 AMERICAN HISTORY. [McMullen 

afterwards, he received a Becond visit from Donacona, who 
this time came accompanied by five hundred warriors of 
his tribe. 

Having thoroughly rested and refreshed himself and his 
men, Cartier determined to explore the river to Hochelaga, 
another Indian town, which he learned was situated 
several days' journey up its course. With the view of 
impressing the Indians with the superiority of the white 
man, he caused, prior to his departure, several cannon- 
shots to be discharged, which produced the desired result. 
Like their countrymen of the south on the arrival of 
Columbus, the red men of the St. Lawrence were alarmed 
by the firing of artillery ; and as its thunders reverberated 
among the surrounding hills, a feeling of mingled terror 
and astonishment took complete possession of their minds. 

Leaving his other ships safely at anchor, Cartier, on 
the 19th of September, proceeded up the river with the 
Hermerillon (which, owing to the shallowness of the 
water, he had to leave in Lake St. Peter) and two boats, 
and frequently came into contact ^vith small parties of 
the natives, whd treated him in the most friendly manner. 
Bold, and loving adventure for its own sake, and at the 
same time strongly imbued with religious enthusiasm, 
Cartier watched the shifting landscape hour after hour, as 
he ascended the river, with feelings of the deepest grati 
fication, which were heightened by the reflection that he 
was the pioneer of civilization and Christianity in that 
unknown clime. Nature presented itself in all its primi- 
tive grandeur to his view. The noble river on whose broad 
bosom he floated onwards day after day, disturbing vast 
flocks of water-fowl ; the primeval forests of the north, 
which here and there presented, amid the luxuriance of 
their foliage, the parasitical vine loaded with ripe clusters 
of luscious grapes, and from whence the strange notes of 



McMullen] discovery OF THE ST. LAWRENCE. 93 

the whippoorwill, and other birds of varied tone and 
plumage, such as he had never before seen, were heard 
at intervals; the bright sunshine of a Canadian autumn ; 
the unclouded moonlight of its calm and pleasant nights, 
with the other novel accessories of the occasion, made a 
sublime and profound impression upon the mind of the 
adventurer. 

Delighted with his journey, Cartier arrived, on the 2d 
of October, opposite the Huron village of Hochelaga, the 
inhabitants of which lined the shore on his approach, 
and made the most friendly signs for him to land. Sup- 
plies of fish and maize were freely tendered by the In- 
dians, in return for which they received knives and beads. 
Despite this friendly conduct, however, Cartier and his 
companions deemed it most prudent to pass the night on 
board their boats. On the following day, headed by their 
leader dressed in the most imposing costume at his com- 
mand, the exploring party went in procession to the vil- 
lage. At a short distance from its environs they were 
met by the sachem, who received them with that solemn 
courtesy peculiar to the aborigines of America. Cartier 
made him several presents : among these was a cross, 
which he hung round his neck and directed him to kiss. 
Patches of ripe corn encircled the village, which consisted 
of fifty substantially-built huts, secured from attack by 
three lines of stout palisades. Like the natives of Mexico 
and Peru, the Hochelagians regarded the white men as a 
superior race of beings, who came among them as friends 
and benefactors. Impressed with this idea, they con- 
ducted them in state to their council lodge and brought 
their sick to be healed. Cartier was at once too com- 
pletely in their power and too politic to undeceive them. 
It is recorded that he did everything he could to soothe 
their minds; that he even prayed with these idolaters, 



94 AMERICAN HISTORY. [McMttllen 

and distributed crosses and other symbols of the Catholic 
faith among them. 

The introductory ceremony concluded, Cartier ascended 
the mountain behind Hochelaga, to which he gave the 
name of Mont Roj^al, subsequently corrupted into Mon- 
treal. From a point near its summit a noble prospect 
met his view. Interminable forests stretched on every 
side, their deep gloom broken at harmonious intervals by 
hills and rivers and island-studded lakes. Simple as were 
the natives of Hochelaga, they appeared to have some 
knowledge of the geography of their country. From 
them Cartier learned that it would take three months to 
sail in their canoes up the course of the majestic river 
which flowed beneath them, and that it ran through sev- 
eral great lakes, the farthest one of which was like a vast 
sea. Beyond this lake was another large river (the Mis- 
sissippi), which pursued a southerly course through a 
region free from ice and snow. With the precious metals 
they appeared but xqyj partially acquainted. Of copper 
they had a better knowledge, and stated that it was 
found at the Saguenay. 

Favorably as Cartier had been i-eceived, the lateness 
of the season compelled his immediate return to Stada- 
cona. The Indians expressed their regret at the short- 
ness of the visit, and accompanied the French to theii 
boats, which they followed for some time, making signs of 
farewell. The expedition did not, however, find all the 
natives equally friendly. While bivouacking one night on 
the bank of the river, they would probably have all been 
massacred, but for a timely retreat to their boats. Car- 
tier had a narrow escape, and owed his life to the intre- 
pidity of his boatswain, an Englishman. 

The adventurers wintered in the St. Charles Eiver, and 
continued to be treated with apparent kindness and hos- 



McMullen] discovert OF THE ST. LAWRENCE. 95 

pitality by the Stadaconians, who had, fortunately, laid 
up abundant stores of provisions. Unaccustomed, how- 
ever, to the rigor of a Canadian winter, and scantily sup- 
plied with warm clothing, Cartier and his companions 
suffered severely from the cold. To add to their other 
misfortunes, scurvy, the terror of the seaman in those 
days, made its appearance, and, in conjunction with a dis- 
ease produced by a licentious intercourse with the natives, 
speedily carried off twenty-five of their number. To a 
decoction from the bark of the spruce-fir, taken on the 
recommendation of the Indians, the remainder ascribed 
their restoration to health. 

The long winter at length drew to a close ; the ice 
broke up, and, although the voyage had led to no gold- 
discoveries or profitable returns in a mercantile point 
of view, the expedition prepared to return home. Like 
other adventurers of that age, they requited the kindness 
and hospitality of the aborigines with the basest ingrati- 
tude. They compelled Donacona, with two other chiefs 
and eight warrioi'S, to bear them company to France, 
where the greater part of these unfortunate men died 
soon after their arrival. 

[Cartier made a second visit to the St. Lawrence in 1540, in com- 
mand of a fleet fitted out by De Eoberval, a rich nobleman of France. 
As he failed to bring back their chief, the inhabitants of Stadacona 
received him with indications of hostility.] 

Finding his position with the inhabitants of Stadacona 
becoming daily more and more unpleasant, Cartier moved 
higher up the river to Cape Eouge, where he laid up 
three of his vessels, and sent the other two back to 
France, with letters to the king and Eoberval, stating 
the success of his voyage and asking for supplies. His 
next proceeding was to erect a fort, which he called 



98 AMERICAN HISTORY. [McMullen 

Charlesbourg. Here, after an unsuccessful attempt to 
navigate the rapids above Hochelaga, he passed a most 
uncomfortable winter. During the ensuing summer he 
occupied himself in examining the country in every di- 
rection, and in searching for gold, but of which he only 
procured a few trifling specimens in the beds of some 
dried rivulets. A few small diamonds were discovered in 
a headland near Stadacona, which was therefore called 
Cape Diamond, a name it still retains. 

The promised supplies not having arrived, another se- 
vere winter completely disheartened Cartier, and he ac- 
cordingly resolved to return home. Putting into the har- 
bor of St. John, Newfoundland, he encountered Eoberval 
who was now on his way to Canada, with a new company 
of adventurers and an abundance of stores and provisions. 
The viceroy endeavored to persuade Cartier to return 
with him, but without effect. He and his companions 
were alike disheartened with the extreme cold and pro- 
longed duration of a Canadian winter, and this circum- 
stance, in connection with the other hardships to which 
they had been exposed, caused them to long earnestly to 
return to their own sunny France. To avoid further im- 
portunity, a possible quarrel, and forcible detention, Car- 
tier caused his sailors to weigh anchor during the night. 
After a tolerably quick passage, he arrived safely in his 
native country, where he died shortly after his return, 
having, like many others, sacrificed health and fortune to 
a passion for discovery and a desire to acquire gold. 

[Roberval returned to France, after spending the winter in Canada. 
He subsequently started with another expedition for the same region. 
This fleet was never heard of again, and probably foundered at sea. 
The results of these efforts so discouraged the French that no similar 
attempt was made for many years afterwards.] 



Besant] massacre OF FRENCH PROTESTANTS. 97 

THE MASSACRE OF THE FRENCH PROTESTANTS. 

WALTER BESANT. 

[The first earnest eifort to establish a French colony in America was 
made in the interest of the French Protestants at the instigation of 
the celebrated Admiral Coligny. His primary effort in this direction 
was made in Brazil. The northern shores of that country, as we have 
already stated, had been discovered by Pinzon in 1499. In 1500 a 
Portuguese fleet under Pedro Alvarez Cabral, on a voyage to the East 
Indies by way of the Cape of Good Hope, sailed so far westward as to 
touch the coast of southern Brazil. A fort was built, in which a few 
men were left, and gradually, during the succeeding j^ears, small Por- 
tuguese settlements spread along the coast. From time to time this 
coast was visited by the French, mainly on piratical enterprises, and a 
state of war existed for years between the French and Portuguese in 
the waters of Brazil. In 1555, Coligny sent a colony to this region 
under Villegagnon, a French adventurer. It was established on an 
island in the Bay of Rio Janeiro. But the place proved so unsuitable, 
the colony was made up of such disreputable and vicious elements, 
and the leader proved so worthless and treacherous, that the settlement, 
after languishing for four years, yielded to an attack from the Portu- 
guese, and was swept out of existence. 

In 1562, Coligny made a second effort to establish a refuge for French 
Protestants in America. An expedition was sent to Florida under 
command of John Eibaut. He reached the coast in May, and discov- 
ered a stream which he called the River of May (now St. John's River). 
Proceeding thence to Port Royal, near the southern border of Carolina, 
he erected a fort, and left twenty-six men, returning to France for emi- 
grants and supplies* The promised reinforcement not arriving, the 
colonists abandoned the fort and embarked for home in a brigantine 
of their own construction. Like the Brazilian colonists, they had not 
taken the trouble to cultivate the soil, and were driven by famine from 
America to encounter a worse famine at sea. They were saved from 
death by an English vessel which they fortunately met off the coast 
of England. 

In 1564 another expedition was sent out by Coligny, and a colony 
established on the St. John's River under Laudonniere, one of Ribaut's 
I. — E g 9 



98 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Besant 

original company. It was managed with the same improvidence as 
the former ones, and to escape starvation a party of the emigrants 
embarked for France. But instead of returning they commenced a 
career of piracy against the Spaniards. The remainder were on the 
point of leaving the country, when Kibaut appeared, with seven ves- 
sels and about six hundred emigrants. Meanwhile, news had arrived 
in Spain that a party of French heretics had settled in Florida, which 
was claimed as Spanish territory. Menendez, who had already estab- 
lished a reputation for brutality in America, was sent out to extirpate 
them. Up to this point the conflicts of Europeans upon American soil 
had been with the natives, with the exception of the piratical pro- 
ceedings above adverted to. Now the wars of Europeans with one 
another were about to be inaugurated in a brutal massacre, the story 
of which we give in the graphic account of Walter Besant, selected 
from his " Gaspard de Coligny."] 

The expedition under Menendez consisted of an army 
of two thousand six hundred soldiers and officers. He 
sailed straight for Florida, intending to attack Fort Caro- 
line "with no delay. In fact, he sighted the mouth of the 
port two months after starting ; but, considering the posi- 
tion occupied by the French ships, he judged it prudent 
to defer the attack, and make it, if possible, from the 
land. 

A council of war was held in Fort Caroline, presided 
over by Eibaut. Laudonniere proposed that, while Eibaut 
held the fort with the ships, he, with his old soldiers, who 
knew the country well, aided by the Floridans as auxil- 
iaries, should engage the Spaniards in the woods and 
harass them by perpetual combats in labj'rinths to which 
they were wholly unaccustomed. The advice was good, 
but it was not followed. Eibaut proposed to follow the 
Spanish fleet with his own, — lighter and more easily 
handled, — fall on the enemy when the soldiers were all 
disembarked, and, after taking and burning the ships, to 
attack the army. 



Besaxt] massacre OF FRENCH PROTESTANTS. 99 

In the face of remonstrances from all the officers he 
persisted in this project. Disaster followed the attempt. 
A violent gale arose. The French ships were wrecked 
upon the Floridan coast ; the men lost their arms, their 
powder, and their clothes; they escaped with their bare 
lives. There was no longer the question of conquering 
the Spaniards, but of saving themselves. The gai'rison 
of Caroline consisted of one hundred and fifty soldiers, of 
whom forty were sick. The rest of the colony was com- 
posed of sick and wounded, Protestant ministers, work- 
men, "royal commissioners," and so forth. Laudonniere 
was in command. They awaited the attack for several 
days, yet the Spaniards came not. They were wading 
miserably through the marshes in the forests, under trop- 
ical rains, discouraged, and out of heart. Had Laudon- 
niere's project been carried out, not one single Spaniard 
would have returned to the fleet to tell the tale. Day 
after daj" the soldiers toiled, sometimes breast-high, 
through these endless marshes, under the rain which 
never ceased. The provisions were exhausted. Many of 
the soldiers remained behind, or returned to St. Augus- 
tine, pretending to have lost their way. The officers 
asked each other loudly whether they were all to be killed 
in a bog through the ignorance of an Asturian, who knew 
no more about war than a horse. Menendez pretended 
not to hear, and they plodded on, mutinous and discon- 
tented, till their leader suddenly pointed out, through the 
branches of the trees, the earthworks and cannon of Fort 
Caroline. He invited his officers to make up their minds 
to an immediate attack or a retreat. Seven of them pro- 
posed a retreat : they would live on palmistes and roots 
on the way. But the majority declared for advance, and 
the attack was resolved upon. 

For some reason unexplained, the French sentinels 



100 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Besant 

chose this fatal moment to leave their posts. There was 
actually no watch on the ramparts. Three companies of 
Sjjaniards simultaneously rushed from the forest and at- 
tacked the fortress on the south, the west, and the south- 
west. There was but little resistance from the surprised 
garrison. There was hardly time to grasp a sword. 
About twenty escaped by flight, including the captain, 
Laudonniere ; the rest were every one massacred. None 
were spared excejjt women and children under fifteen ; 
and, in the first rage of the onslaught, even these were 
murdered with the rest. 

There still lay in the port three ships, commanded hj 
Jacques Eibaut, brother of the unfortunate governor. 
One of these was quickly sent to the bottom by the 
cannon of the fort; the other two cut their cables and 
slipped out of reach into the roadstead, where they lay, 
waiting for a favorable wind, for three days. They picked 
up the fugitives who had been wandering half starved in 
the woods, and then set sail from this unlucky land. 

[Meanwhile, Kibaut's shipwrecked crew were wandering along the 
shore of Florida, fifty miles from Tort Caroline. They were ignorant 
of the loss of the fort, and made their way with difficulty through the 
woods, until, to their despair, they saw the Spanish flag flying over its 
ramparts.] 

There was nothing for it but to retreat again. The 
unfortunate Frenchmen began miserably to retrace their 
steps through the wet and gloomy forest, eating leaves, 
herbs, and roots. Their last misfortune was that they knew 
nothing of the new Spanish settlement [of St. Augustine, 
established by Menendez], and so directed their course 
as exactly to arrive at it. 

Menendez saw from a distance the arrival of the first 
band of two hundred. They were like a crowd of ship- 
wi-eeked sailors, destitute of the power of resistance, feeble 



Besant] massacre OF FRENCH PROTESTANTS. 101 

from long fasting, fatigued with their long march. He 
had with him a troop of forty men. A river ran between 
the French and the Spaniards. A Basque swam across the 
stream, and asked for a safe-conduct for Eibaut, who had 
not yet arrived, and four gentlemen. Menendez would 
accord, he said, an audience to an officer. One Yasseur, 
accompanied by two or three soldiers, crossed over the 
river and was brought to the Spanish commander. Me- 
nendez began by apprising him of the captiu-e of Caroline 
and the massacre of the garrison. He confirmed the truth 
of his story by causing two prisoners, spared as Catholics, 
to relate it themselves. He coldly told Yasseur that all 
those who were Protestants should suffer the same fate, or 
at least that he would not promise otherwise. 

There was but one alternative. The French could trust 
to the possible clemency of Menendez, or they could take 
to the woods. In the latter case they would certainly 
starve ; in the former, they might escape with their lives. 
It seemed incredible that a man should, in cold blood, 
resolve to massacre two hundred unarmed men. They laid 
down their arms. They were brought across the river in 
small companies, and their hands tied behind their backs. 

On landing, they were asked if they were Catholics. 
Eight out of the two hundred professed allegiance to that 
religion ; the rest were all Protestants. Menendez traced 
out a line on the ground with his cane. The prisoners 
were marched up one by one to the line ; on reaching it, 
they were stabbed. 

The next day Eibaut arrived with the rest of the army. 

The same pourparlers began. But this time a blacker 
treachery was adopted. Menendez did not himself receive 
the officer sent to treat. He deputed a certain Yallemonde. 
This creature received the French deputy with unexpected 
civility. His captain, he said, was a man of extraordinary 
I. 9* 



102 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Besant 

clemency. It was true that Caroline had fallen, but the 
garrison, women, and children were all put on board ship, 
with provisions, and were now on their way to France. 
Finally, if the French laid down their arms, he, Valle- 
monde, would pledge his word of honor on the sacred 
cross, which he kissed devoutly, that all their lives should 
be spared. 

It is not clear how many of the French accepted the 
conditions. A certain number refused them, and escaped 
into the woods. "What is certain is that Ribaut, with 
nearly all his men, were tied back to back, four together. 
Those who said they were Catholics were set on one side; 
the rest were all massacred as they stood. A rage for 
slaughter — the blood-thirst — seized the Spanish soldiers. 
They fell upon their victims, and stabbed and hacked 
both the living and the dead. The air was horrible with 
their oaths and cries. The work of murder was soon 
over. In a very few moments there was not a cry, nor 
a sound, nor a movement, among the whole four hun- 
dred prisoners now lying upon the ground, the maddened 
soldiers still stabbing their lifeless bodies. Outside the 
circle of the slaughtered and the slaughterers stood the 
priest, Mendoza, encouraging, approving, exhorting the 
butchers. With him, calm, serene, and joyful, with a 
prayer of thanksgiving on his lips, stood the murderer, 
Menendez. 

The slaughter completed, they set up enormous piles of 
wood and burned the bodies on them. On the trees near 
the scene of the massacre Menendez caused to be in- 
scribed, " Slaughtered not as Frenchmen, but as Luther- 
ans." As for the corpse of Ribaut, he had it flayed, and 
sent the skin to Europe, with cuttings from the beard, as 
gifts to his friends. 

[Those who had escaped to the woods built a small fort, defended 



Besant] massacre OF FRENCH PROTESTANTS. 103 

themselves, were offered terms of surrender, and were all sent to the 
galleys. The reception of this news in France raised a storm of in- 
dignation. As the court made no movement of reprisal, the French 
sailors took revenge into their own hands. Fast-sailing privateers 
were sent out, which captured the rich Spanish galleons and inflicted 
enormous losses. English buccaneers followed the example, and Spain 
paid dearly in treasure for the bloody act of Menendez. One soldier, 
Dominique de Gourgues, who had been in the Spanish galleys and 
hated the Spaniards vehemently, resolved on a more direct revenge. 
With difficulty he equipped three small ships, which he manned with 
one hundred and eighty men. The purpose of his expedition was 
kept secret ; only the captains of his ships knew of it. It was in the 
early part of 1568 that he appeared off the coast of Florida. He 
landed his men, gained the alliance of the natives, who bitterly hated 
the Spaniards, and began a painful and difficult march overland, at- 
tended by thousands of Indian warriors.] 

The Spaniards were extending their fortifications out- 
side Caroline itself. At one place the lines had only been 
drawn, and the works as yet were only just commenced. 
Here the attack was to take place. 

The story reads almost exactly like that of the Span- 
iards when they took the fort by surprise. Entirely 
without suspicion, the garrison were taking their dinner. 
Suddenly, a musket-shot, and the cry of " The French ! 
the French !" There were sixty men in this, the outwork. 
They were all killed. But there remained the second fort. 
De Gourgues turned the cannon on it, and a lively artillery 
fight began. The Floridans at this moment emerged from 
the woods. A detachment of French attacked the fort in 
the rear. The Spaniards, ignorant of the number of the 
enemy, lost their heads. The second fort was taken with a 
rush, and all the Spaniards killed except fifteen, whom De 
Gourgues ordered to be bound and kept in safety for the 
moment. There yet remained Fort Caroline itself Here 
there were three hundred combatant men. De Gourgues 



104 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Besant 

surrounded the fort with his Indians, and prevented any 
spy from coming out, so that the besieged had no notion 
of the numbers of their assailants. The commandant, in 
surprise and indecision, allowed two days to pass before 
doing anything. Then he sent out a spy disguised as an 
Indian. He was caught, and, being brought before De 
Gourgues, he had the imprudence to confess that the gar- 
rison was horribly discouraged, believing the French to be 
two thousand strong. Thereupon De Gourgues resolved 
upon an immediate attack. 

The Spaniai'ds thought that his little army, all of which 
was now in sight, was "only an advance-guard. The French, 
thinking the moment inoj)portune, retired into the wood 
again to watch. The Spaniards sent out a body of sixty, 
with the view of drawing them out into the open. De 
Gourgues detached twenty of his own men to place them- 
selves in ambush between the fort and the sortie, so as to 
cut off their retreat. Then, before the Spaniards had time 
to form themselves, he poured a murderous fire into their 
ranks, and rushed upon them, sword in hand. They turned 
to fly, and were met by the ambuscade. Not one returned 
to the fort. The rest of the French rushed tumultuously 
out of the wood, and all together, headed by De Gourgues, 
they crowded into the citadel. 

A panic seized the Spaniards. They allowed themselves 
to be cut down almost without resistance. Out of the whole 
force of three hundred, De Gourgues only managed to save 
sixty. 

He would have saved more, to make his revenge more 
complete. As it was, he wrote an inscription, which he 
placed so that all could see, — " I do this not to Spaniards, 
but to traitors, thieves, and murderers." 

Then he hanged them up, every one, the Floridans 
looking on aghast. This done, he destroyed the fort and 



* 



HowiTT] COLONIES OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 105 

returned to France. He was received with enthusiasm at 
Eochelle, an entirely Protestant town. 



THE COLONIES OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 

MARY HOWITT. 

[The sixteenth century may justly be called the century of discov- 
ery. The bold push of Columbus across the ocean to America and of 
Vasco da Gama around Africa to the East Indies broke the chains of 
timidity with which the world had hitherto been bound. They were 
followed by a succession of daring and reckless navigators, who quickly 
made the world their home, and sought new lands with an avidity and 
enthusiasm with which the thirst for fame and the spirit of adventure 
had as much to do as the love of gold. The English were somewhat 
late in following the lead of the Spanish, Portuguese, and French dis- 
coverers, but prosecuted their researches with vigor after they had once 
commenced. One of their adventurers, Sir John Hawkins, engaged 
in the slave-trade, which had been early instituted by the Spaniards, 
and carried cargoes of negroes to the West Indies in 1562 and 1564. 
In 1567 he was in the Gulf of Mexico, in conflict with the Spaniards 
at San Juan de Ulloa, in which expedition he was accompanied by 
the celebrated Sir Francis Drake. In 1570, Drake started on a pri- 
vateering excursion against the Spaniards, and for years he did them 
immense damage. In 1573 he crossed the Isthmus and attacked the 
Spanish settlements on the Pacific shores. In 1577 he sailed south- 
ward along the Brazilian coast, entered the Eio de la Plata (which had 
been discovered in 1526 by Sebastian Cabot), and passed through the 
Straits of Magellan. Thence he followed the coasts of Chili and Peru, 
attacking the Spanish ships and settlements as he advanced, and ex- 
plored the shores of western America as far north as 48° N. lat., in the 
hope of discovering a passage to the Atlantic. He returned home 
by way of the Cape of Good Hope, accomplishing the first circum- 
navigation of the globe by an Englishman. Attempts were made in 
the same period to discover a northwestern passage from the Atlantic to 
the Pacific by Willoughby and Chancellor, Frobisher, Henry Hudson, 
and others. But the only efforts during this century to found an 



106 AMERICAN HISTORY. [HowiTi 

Enpjlish colony on the shores of the New World were those made by 
Sir Walter Kaleigh. These we may describe in detail in a selection 
chosen from Mary Howitt's charmingly- written " History of the United 
States."] 

Joint-stock companies for the discovery of unknown 
lands were first formed in 1555. The marriage of Mary 
with Philip of Spain brought the magnificent discoveries 
and productions of that country into a closer proximity 
with England, and a desire to emulate the successes of 
Sj)ain in the New "World was excited. 

The spirit of Elizabeth seconded that of her people. 
The nation had now assumed a more determined and a 
prouder front in their resentment of the attempt of S^Dain 
to render them an appendage to the Spanish crown, and 
by the successful struggle of Protestantism against Cathol- 
icism. England strengthened her navy; frequented the 
bays and banks of Newfoundland; sent out adventurers 
to Eussia and Africa ; endeavored to reach Persia by land, 
and enlarged her commerce with the East, whilst her priva- 
teers lay in wait at sea for the rich galleons of Spain. The 
study of geography was universally cultivated, and books 
of travels and adventures by land and sea were eagerly 
read. Erobisher, the boldest mariner who ever crossed the 
ocean, set forth to discover the long-sought-for northwest 
passage, and Queen Elizabeth waved her hand to him in 
token of favor, as he sailed down the Thames. Erobisher, 
like all the rest of the world, hoped to find gold. If the 
Spaniards had found gold in the south, England was con- 
fident of finding gold in the north. Elizabeth entered en- 
thusiastically into the scheme of planting a colony among 
the wealthy mines of the polar regions, where gold, it was 
said, lay on the surftice of the ground. Erobisher was 
followed by a second fleet, but they found only frost and 
icebei'srs. 



HowiTT] COLONIES OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 107 

Whilst Frobisher and his ships were thus vainly endeav- 
oring to find an El Dorado in the north, Sir Francis Drake 
was acquiring immense wealth as a freebooter on the Span- 
ish main, and winning great glory by circumnavigating 
the globe, after having explored the northwestern coast of 
America as far north as the forty-third degree. Sir Hum- 
phrey Gilbert, also, a man of sound judgment and deeply 
religious mind, obtained a charter from Queen EUzabeth 
in 1578 for the more rational purposes of colonization. 
He set sail with three vessels, accompanied by his step- 
brother, Sir Walter Ealeigh ; but a series of disasters befell 
them ; the largest vessel was wrecked, and a hundred per- 
ished, among whom was Parmenius, a Hungarian scholar, 
who had gone out as historian of the expedition. On the 
homeward voyage they were overtaken by a great storm. 
" We are as near to heaven on sea as on land," said Sir 
Humphrey Gilbert, sitting abaft with a book in his hand. 
And the same night his little vessel went down, and all on 
board perished. 

The brave spirit of Sir Walter Ealeigh was not dis- 
couraged, though he deeply deplored the loss of his noble 
step-brother. He resolved now to secure to England those 
glorious countries where the poor French Protestants 
had suffered so deeply, and a patent was readily granted, 
constituting him lord proprietary, with almost unlimited 
powei's, according to the Christian Protestant faith, of all 
land which he might discover between the thirtj'-third and 
fortieth degrees of north latitude. Under this jjatent 
Ealeigh despatched, as avant-courier ships, two vessels, 
under the command of Philip Amidas and Arthur Bar- 
low. In the month of July they reached the coast of 
North America, having perceived, while far out at sea, the 
fragrance as of a delicious garden, from the odoriferous 
flowers of the shore. Finding, after some search, a con- 



108 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howitt 

venient harbor, they landed, and, offering thanks to God 
for their safe arrival, took formal possession 'in the name 
of the Queen of England. 

The spot on which they landed was the island of Wo- 
coken. The shores of this part of America are peculiar, 
inasmuch as during one portion of the year they are ex- 
posed to fui'ious tempests, against which the low flat shore 
affords no defence of harborage ; in the summer season, on 
the contrary, the sea and air are alike tranquil, the whole 
presenting the most paradisiacal aspect, whilst the vegeta- 
tion is calculated to strike the beholder with wonder and de- 
light. The Enghsh strangers beheld the country under its 
most favorable circumstances ; the grapes being so plentiful 
that the surge of the ocean, as it lazily rolled in upon the 
shore, dashed its spray upon the clusters. " The forests 
formed themselves into wonderfull}^ beautiful bowers, fre- 
quented by multitudes of birds. It was like a garden of 
Eden, and the gentle, friendly inhabitants appeared in uni- 
son with the scene. On the island of Eoanoke they were 
received by the wife of the king, and entertained with 
Arcadian hospitality." 

[The report taken to England aroused high enthusiasm. An ex- 
pedition was sent, sailing on the 9th of April, 1585, under Sir Eichard 
Grenville, and consisting of seven vessels and one hundred and fifty- 
colonists. They reached Koanoke Island, where they quickly roused 
the natives to hostility by burning a village and destroying the standing 
corn on suspicion of the theft of a silver cup.] 

The colonists, however, landed, and soon afterwards the 
ships returned to England, Grenville taking a rich Spanish 
prize by the way. Lane [the governor] and his colonists 
explored the country, and Lane wrote home, " It is the 
goodliest soil under the cope of heaven ; the most pleasing 
territory in the world ; the continent is of a huge and un- 



HowiTT] COLONIES OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 109 

known greatness, and very well peopled and towned, though 
savagely. The climate is so wholesome that we have none 
sick. If Virginia had but horses and kine and were in- 
habited by English, no realm in Christendom were com- 
parable with it." Harlot's observations were directed to 
"the natural inhabitants," and to the ^productions of the 
colony with reference to commerce ; he observed the culture 
of tobacco, used it himself, and had great faith in its salutary 
quahties ; he paid great attention to the maize and the po- 
tato, "which he found when boiled to be good eating." . . . 
In the mean time, the mass of the colonists, who were 
rabid for gold, listened to wonderful tales invented by art- 
ful Indians, who wished to be rid of these awe-inspiring 
strangers. The river Eoanoke, they said, gushed forth 
from a rock near the Pacific Ocean ; that a nation dwelt 
upon its remote banks, skilful in refining gold, and that 
they occupied a city the walls of which glittered with 
pearls. Even Sir Eichard Lane was credulous enough to 
believe these tales, and ascended the river with a party in 
order to reach this golden region. They advanced onward, 
finding nothing, till they were reduced to the utmost ex- 
tremity of famine. The Indians, disappointed by their 
return, resolved to cultivate no more corn, so that they 
might be driven from the country by want, and the Eng- 
lish, divining their views, having invited the chief to a 
conference, fell upon him and slew him, with many of his 
followers. Lane was unfit for his office. This act of 
treachery exasperated the Indians to such a degree that 
they would no longer give him supplies. The colony was 
about to perish by famine, as the Indians desired, when Sir 
Francis Drake appeared outside the harbor with a fleet of 
twenty-three ships. He was on his way from the West 
Indies, and was now come to visit his friends. No visit 
could have been more opportune or more welcome. 
I. 10 



110 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howitt 

[At the request of the colonists, Drake carried them to England. 
Yet he had hardly gone before a vessel despatched by Kaleigh arrived, 
laden with supplies. Finding that the colony had vanished, the vessel 
returned, and it had but fairly disappeared when Sir Kichard Grenville 
arrived with three ships. After searching in vain for the missing 
colony, he also returned, leaving fifteen men on Koanoke Island to 
hold possession for the English. Kaleigh, not discouraged by this 
failure, sent out another colony, this time choosing agriculturists, and 
sending their wives and children with the emigrants. Implements of 
husbandry were also sent. On reaching Eoanoke they found only the 
bones of the fifteen men whom Grenville had left, while their fort was 
in ruins. The new governor. Captain John White, proved an unfortu- 
nate choice, since he at once made an unprovoked assault vipon the 
Indians. Wliite quickly returned with the ships to England for sup- 
plies and reinforcements.] 

"When White reached England he found the whole nation 
absorbed by the threats of a Spanish invasion : Ealeigh, Gren- 
ville, and Lane, Frobisher, Drake, and Hawkins, all were em- 
ployed in devising measures of resistance. It was twelve 
months before Ealeigh, who had to depend almost entirely 
upon his own means, was able to despatch White with sup 
plies: this he did in two vessels. White, who wished to 
profit by his voyage, instead of at once returning without 
loss of time to his colony, went in chase of Spanish prizes, 
until at length one of his ships was overpowered, boarded, 
and rifled, and both compelled to return to England. This 
delay was fatal. The great events of the Spanish Armada 
took place, after which Sir Walter Ealeigh found himself 
embarrassed with such a fearful amount of debt that it 
was no longer in his power to attempt the colonization of 
Virginia ; nor was it till the following year that White was 
able to return, and then also through the noble efforts of 
Sir Walter Ealeigh, to the unhappy colony Eoanoke. Again 
tlie island was a desert. An inscription on the bark of a 
tree indicated Croatan ; but the season of the year, and the 



Ho^iTT] COLONIES OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. HI 

danger of storms, furnished an excuse to White for not 
going thither. What was the fate of the colony never was 
known. It has been conjectured that through the friend- 
ship) of Manteo (an Indian chief) they had probably escaped 
to Croatan ; perhajjs had been, when thus cruell}' neglected 
by their countrymen, received into a friendly tribe of Indians, 
and became a portion of the children of the forest. The 
Indians had, at a later day, a tradition of this kind, and it 
has been thought that the physical character of the Hatteras 
Indians bore out the tradition. The kind-hearted and noble 
Raleigh did not soon give up all hopes of his little colony. 
Five different times he sent out at his own expense to seek 
for them, but in vain. The mystery which veils the fate 
of the colonists of Roanoke will never be solved in this 
world. . . . 

The fisheries of the north and the efforts of Sir Walter 
Raleigh at colonization had trained a race of men for dis- 
covery. One of these, Bartholomew Gosnold, determined 
upon sailing direct from England to America, without 
touching at the Canaries and the West Indies, as had 
hitherto been the custom ; and, with the aid of Raleigh, he 
" wellnigh secured to New England the honor of the first 
permanent English colony." He sailed in a small vessel 
directly across the ocean (in 1602), and in seven wrecks 
reached the shores of Massachusetts, but, not finding a good 
harbor, sailed southward, and discovered and landed on a 
promontory which he called Cape Cod, which name it 
retains to this day. Sailing thence, and still pursuing 
the coast, he discovered various islands, one of which he 
called Elizabeth, after the queen, and another Martha's 
Yineyard. The vegetation was rich ; the land covered with 
magnificent forests ; and wild fruits and flowers burst from 
the earth in unimagined luxuriance, — the eglantine, the 
thorn, and the honeysuckle ; the wild pea, tansy, and young 



112 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howitt 

sassafras ; strawberries, raspberries, and vines. In the island 
was a little lake, and in the lake a rocky islet, and here the 
colonists resolved to build their storehouse and fort, the 
nucleus of the first New England colony. The natural 
features of the place, the historian tells us, remain un- 
changed: the island, the little lake, and the islet are all 
there ; the forests are gone, while the flowers and fruit are 
as abundant as ever. But no trace remains of the fort. 

Friendly traffic with the natives of the mainland soon 
completed- a freight, which consisted of furs and sassafras, 
and Gosnold was about to sail, when the hearts of the in- 
tending colonists failed them ; they dreaded the attack of 
Indians and the want of necessary supplies from home. 
All, therefore, re-embarked, and in five weeks reached Eng- 
land. 

Gosnold and his companions brought home such favor- 
able reports of the country and the shortness of the voy- 
age that the following year a company of Bristol merchants 
despatched two small vessels, under the command of Mar- 
tin Bring, for the purpose of exploring the country and 
commencing a trade with the natives; They carried out 
with them trinkets and merchandise suited for such traffic, 
and their voyage was eminently successful. They discov- 
ered some of the principal rivers of Maine, and examined 
the coast of Massachusetts as far south as Martha's Vine- 
yard. The whole voyagQ occupied but six months. Bring 
repeated his voyage in 1606, making still more accurate 
surveys of the country. 

[The coast of New England was further surveyed by an expedition 
despatched by the Earl of Southampton and Lord Arundel and com- 
manded by George "Weymouth. He explored the coast of Labrador, 
and discovered the Penobscot River. Captain John Smith also made 
an exploration of the coast in 1614, advanced into Massachusetts Bay 
' till he came up into the river between Mishawam, afterwards called 



HowiTT] COLONIES OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 113 

Charlestown, and Shawmutt, afterwards called Boston, and, having 
made discovery of the land, rivers, coves, and creeks in the said bay, 
and also taken some observation of the manners, dispositions, and 
sundry customs of the numerous Indians, or nations inhabiting the 
same, he returned to England." He gave to the country the name of 
New England, which it still retains. 

In 1598 the Marquis de la Koche endeavored to found a French 
colony in America, and peopled Sable Island, on the const of Nova 
Scotia, with the refuse of the jails. After languishing here for twelve 
years, they were allowed to return, and the colony was abandoned. 
In 1605, De Monts, a French gentleman, formed a colony at a place 
named by him Port Koyal, in the Bay of Fundy, which proved to 
be the first permanent French settlement in America. The whole 
countiy, including the present New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and the 
adjacen| islands, was called Acadia. In the succeeding year (1606) 
the London Company sent three vessels to Eoanoke, which were 
driven by a storm into Chesapeake Bay. Here they discovered the 
James Kiver, up whicli stream they sailed fifty miles, and selected a 
place for a settlement, which they named Jamestown. Here was 
formed the first permanent English colony in America, one hundred 
and fourteen years after the discovery of the New World by Columbus.] 



I— A 10* 



114 AMERICAN HISTORY. 



SECTION III. 

THE ERA OF SETTLEMENT. 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

During the sixteenth century the work of colonizing 
America was left almost entirely to the people of Spain. 
"While the other nations of Euroj)e were contenting them- 
selves with occasional voyages of discovery, or with slave- 
carrying expeditions and piratical raids, the Spaniards were 
extending their dominion in the New World with a rapidity 
and energy in striking contrast with theu' present supine- 
ness. Colonization in the West Indies began immediately 
after the first voyage of Columbus, and was prosecuted 
with such vigor that in a few years the four larger islands 
were completely under Spanish control, and their native 
inhabitants largely annihilated, while the remainder were 
reduced to slavery. The settlement of the mainland was 
prosecuted with similar activity. Colonies were established 
on the coasts of South and Central America, and in 1519 
Cortes began that memorable expedition which soon sub- 
jected the Aztec empire of Mexico to his sway. From 
this region the Spanish dominion extended south through- 
out Central America, and northward to CaHfornia and New 
Mexico, which Coronado invaded in 1540. South America 
was settled with no less rapidity. The conquest of Mexico 
was quickly followed by that of the extensive empire of 
Peru. Chili was conquered in 1541, with the exception of 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 115 

the country of the Araueanians, the only Indian nation 
which has successfully held its own against European inva- 
sion. In a comparatively short time the whole of western 
South America from the lower boundary of Chili to the 
Caribbean coast was Spanish ten-itory. In 1535, Buenos 
Ayres was colonized by Mendoza. These first colonists 
were driven to Paraguay by the Indians, but in 1580 Juan 
de Garay founded a more successful colony. Among the 
most remarkable examples of Spanish activity was the ex- 
pedition of Orellana in 1541. In 1540, Gonzalo Pizarro left 
Quito with an expedition that crossed the Andes and jour- 
neyed eastward through the forests of western Brazil till 
stopped by peril of starvation. Then a brigantine was 
built, which, manned by a cavalier named Orellana, sailed 
down the river Napo to its junction with the Amazons, and 
down the latter great stream to the Atlantic, thus accom- 
pHshing the crossing of the South American continent at 
its widest part nearly three centui-ies before such a result 
was achieved in the parallel section of North America. 
In the region of the United States the Spaniards were no 
less active in exploration, as shown by the expeditions of 
Narvaez and De Soto ; yet but one small settlement was 
made, — that of St. Augustine, in Florida. 

The only other people who showed any colonizing activ- 
ity in the sixteenth century were the Portuguese, who 
slowly spread their settlements along the coast of Brazil, 
until by the end of the century the whole line of coast 
from the La Plata to the Amazons was studded with their 
colonies. These had the merit of being the first settlements 
made in America on agricultm-al principles, the desire for 
the precious metals being the active moving cause in all 
the Spanish explorations and colonizations. During this 
period a few unsuccessful efforts to establish colonies marked 
the hmit of activity in the other nations of Eui'oj)e. A 



116 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell 

French colony on the coast of Brazil was suppressed by 
the Portuguese, and a similar colony in Florida ended in 
massacre. French efforts in the region of the St. Lawrence 
were equally unsuccessful, while the English colonies of 
Ealeigh ended in disaster. The only permanent settlement 
was that made by some Dutch people in 1580, near the 
river Pomeroon, in Guiana. In 1595, Ealeigh made an ex- 
pedition to this region, and ascended the Orinoco in search 
of the fabled El Dorado. He attempted no settlement, but 
in the succeeding century EngUsh and French settlers es- 
tablished themselves in Guiana, dividing the ownership of 
this territory with the Dutch. 

Such was the result of the efforts at colonization in 
America during' the sixteenth century. From the northern 
hne of Mexico to the southern extremity of the continent 
the Spanish and Portuguese had established themselves in 
nearly every available region. But North America from 
the Gulf of Mexico to the Arctic Ocean was still in the 
hands of the aboriginal inhabitants, with the sole exception 
of the Spanish colony of St. Augustine, in Florida. The 
seventeenth century was destined to be the era of settle- 
ment of this important region, mainly by the English and 
French, but to a minor extent by the Dutch and Swedes. 
The story of this seventeenth-century colonization we have 
now to tell. 



JOHN SMITH AND THE JAMESTOWN COLONY. 

CHAELES CAMPBELL. 

[The return of Bartholomew Gosnold, after his voyage to North 
America, and his account of the country he had visited, led to the 
formation of a company for the purpose of forming colonies on these 
new shores. The Virginia Company, thus called into being, received 



Campbell] THE JAMESTOWN COLON V. II7 

the right to hold all the land from Cape Fear to the St. Croix Paver. 
This company comprised two divisions, — the London Company, with 
control over the southern part of the territory, and the Plymouth 
Company, controlling the northern. Under the auspices of the Lon- 
don Company the first permanent English colony in America was 
founded. Three vessels, under Captain Christopher Newport, with 
about one hundred men, were sent out. They had been instructed to 
land on Roanoke Island, but were driven by a storm into Chesapeake 
Bay. The beauty of the situation attracted them, and they deter- 
mined to settle there. Sailing up James Eiver to a convenient spot 
they landed on May 13, the place chosen for their settlement being 
named by them Jamestown. 

The instructions for the colony had been placed by the king in a 
sealed box, on opening which it was found that seven men were 
appointed a governing council, among them Gosnold, Newport, and 
the celebrated Captain John Smith, who was a member of the ex- 
pedition. Most of the colony were gentlemen, who hoped to find 
gold at once and make their fortune, and no attempt at agriculture 
was made. A terrible summer followed. The position chosen for 
security against the Indians proved unhealthy, and more than half the 
colony was swept away by a pestilence. Only the friendly aid of the 
Indians saved the rest from death by starvation. Meanwhile, Captain 
Smith was prevented from taking his place in the council by the 
action of his enemies, and was arrested on false accusations. For 
several months he lay under a cloud. But, boldly defying the malice 
of his enemies, he cleared himself of their charges and resumed his 
place in the council. By the autumn the sole control of the colony 
fell into the hands of Smith, the president finding the duty beyond 
his ability. The behavior of Smith in this capacity is well told in 
Campbell's " History of the Colony and Ancient Dominion in Vir- 
ginia," from which we extract some passages, with the caution to 
the reader that the story of Smith's adventures among the Indians is 
told by himself, and that his character for veracity is not a high one.] 

At the approach of winter the rivers of Virginia 
abounded with wild-fowl, and the English now were well 
supplied with bread, peas, persimmons, fish, and game. 
But this plenty did not last long, for what Smith care- 
fully provided the colonists carelessly wasted. The idlers 



118 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell 

at Jamestown, including some of the council, now began 
to mutter complaints against Smith for not having dis- 
covered the source of the Chickahominy, it being supposed 
that the South Sea, or Pacific Ocean, lay not far distant, 
and that a communication with it would be found by some 
river running from the northwest. The Chickahominy 
flowed in that direction, and hence the solicitude of these 
Jamestown cosmographers to trace that river to its head. 
To allay this dissatisfaction of the council, Smith made 
another voyage up that river, and proceeded until it be- 
came necessary, in order to pass, to cut away a large 
tree which had fallen across the stream. When at last 
the barge could advance no farther, he returned eight 
miles and moored her in a wide bay out of danger, and 
leaving orders to his men not to venture on shore until 
his return, accomj)anied by two of his men and two In- 
dian guides, and leaving seven men in the barge, he went 
still higher up in a canoe to the distance of twenty miles. 
In a short time after he had parted from the barge the 
men left in her went ashore, and one of them, George 
Cassen, was surprised and killed. Smith, in the mean 
while, not suspecting this disaster, reached the marshy 
ground toward the head of the river, " the slashes," and 
went out with his gun to provide food for the party, and 
took with him one of the Indians. During his excursion 
his two men, Eobinson and Emry, were slain, and he him- 
self was attacked by a numerous party of Indians, two 
of whom he killed with a pistol. He protected himself 
from their arrows by making a shield of his guide, bind- 
ing him fast by the arm with one of his garters. Many 
arrows pierced his clothes, and some slightly wounded 
him. Endeavoring to reach the canoe, and walking back- 
ward with his eye still fixed on his pursuers, he sunk to 
his waist in an oozy creek, and his savage with him. 



Campbell] THE JAMESTOWN COLONY. 119 

Nevertheless the Indians were afraid to approach until, 
being now half dead with cold, he threw away his arms, 
when they drew him forth, and led him to the fire 
where his two companions were Ij'ing dead. Here the 
Indians chafed his benumbed limbs, and, having restored 
the vital heat, Smith inquired for their chief, and they 
pointed him to Opechancanough, the great chief of Pa- 
munkey. Smith presented him a mariner's compass : the 
vibrations of the mysterious needle astonished the un- 
tutored sons of the forest. In a short time they bound 
the prisoner to a tree, and were about to shoot him to 
death, when Opechancanough holding up the compass, 
they all laid down their bows and arrows. Then march- 
ing in Indian file they led the captive, guarded by fifteen 
men, about six miles, to Orapakes, a hunting town in the 
upper part of the Chickahominy swamp, and about twelve 
miles northeast from the falls of James Eiver [Eichmond]. 
At this town, consisting of thirty or forty houses, built 
like arbors and covered with mats, the women and chil- 
dren came forth to meet them, staring in amazement at 
Smith. Opechancanough and his followers performed their 
military exercises, and joined in the war-dance. Smith 
was confined in a long house under a guard, and an enor- 
mous quantity of bread and venison was set before him, 
as if to fatten him for sacrifice, or because they supposed 
that a superior being required a proportionately larger 
supply of food. An Indian who had received some toys 
from Smith at Jamestown now, in return, brought him a 
warm garment of fur, — a j^leasing instance of gratitude, 
a sentiment often found even in the breast of a savage. 
Another Indian, whose son had been mortally wounded 
by Smith, made an attempt to kill him in revenge, and 
was only prevented by the interposition of his guards. 
[Smith then sent a written message to Jamestown, and received a 



120 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell 

reply, the Indians being astonished on perceiving that " paper could 
talk." The captive was next taken to Pamaunkee, the residence of 
the chief.] 

Here, for three days, they engaged in their horrid orgies 
and incantations, with a view to divine their jDrisoner'a 
secret designs, whether friendly or hostile. They also 
showed him a bag of gunpowder, which they were re- 
serving till the next spring, when they intended to sow 
it in the ground, as they were desirous of propagating so 
useful an article. 

Smith was hospitably entertained by Opitchapan (Ope- 
chancanough's brother), who dwelt a little above, on the 
Pamunkey. Finally, the captive was taken to Werowo- 
comoco, probably signifying chief place of council, a favorite 
seat of Powhatan, on the York Eiver, then called the Pa- 
maunkee or Pamunkey. They found this chief in his rude 
palace, reclining before the fire, on a sort of throne, re- 
sembling a bedstead, covered with mats, his head adorned 
with feathers and his neck with beads, and wearing a long 
robe of raccoon-skins. At his head sat a young female, 
and another at his feet ; while on each side of the wigwam 
sat the men in rows, on mats, and behind them as many 
young women, their heads and shoulders painted red, some 
with their heads decorated with the snowy down of birds, 
and all with strings of white beads falling over their shoul- 
ders. On Smith's entrance they all raised a terrific yell. 
The queen of Appomattock brought him water to wash, 
and another, a bunch of feathers for a towel. After feast- 
ing him, a long consultation a^vs held. That ended, two 
large stones were brought, and the one laid upon the other, 
before Powhatan ; then as many as could lay hold, seizing 
Smith, dragged him to the stones, and, laying his head on 
them, snatched up their war-clubs, and, brandishing them 
in the air, were about to slay him, when Pocahontas, Pow- 



Campbell] THE JAMESTOWN COLONY. 121 

hatan's favorite daughter, a girl of only twelve or thirteen 
years of age, finding all her entreaties unavailing, flew, 
and, at the hazard of her life, clasped the captive's head 
in her arms, and laid her own upon his. The stern heart 
of Powhatan was touched : he relented, and consented that 
Smith might live. 

[The story here given is one in which the reader may be advised 
not to put too great credit, as it is doubted by historical critics, and 
has, in all probability, been greatly embellished by its chief actor. 
Two days afterwards Smith was permitted by Powhatan to return tc? 
Jamestown, on condition of sending him two great guns and a grind- 
stone.] 

Smith now treated his Indian guides kindly, and, show- 
ing Eawhunt, a favorite servant of Powhatan, two j^ieces 
of cannon and a grindstone, gave him leave to carry them 
home to his master. A cannon was then loaded with 
stones, and discharged among the boughs of a tree hung 
with icicles, when the Indians fled in terror, but upon 
being persuaded to return they received presents for Pow- 
hatan, his wives and childi-en, and departed. 

At the time of Smith's return to Jamestown, he found 
the number of the colonists reduced to forty. Of the one 
hundred original settlers, seventy-eight are classified a;^ 
follows : fifty-four gentlemen, four carpenters, twelve labor- 
ers, a blacksmith, a sailor, a barber, a bricklayer, a mason, 
a tailor, a drummer, and a " chirurgeon." Of the gentle- 
men, the greater part were indolent, dissolute reprobates, 
of good families ; and they found themselves not in a 
golden El Dorado, as they had fondly anticipated, but in 
a remote wilderness, encompassed by want, exposure, fa- 
tigue, disease, and danger. 

The return of Smith, and his report of the plenty that 
he had witnessed at Werowocomoco, and of the generous 
clemenc}^ of Powhatan, and especially of the love of Poca- 

I.— F 11 



122 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell 

hontas, revived the drooping hopes of the survivors at 
Jamestown. The arrival of Newport at the same juncture 
with stores and a number of additional settlers, being part 
of the first supply sent out from England by the treasurer 
and council, was joyfully welcomed. Pocahontas too, with 
her tawny train of attendants, frequently visited James- 
town, with presents of bread, and venison, and raccoons, 
sent by Powhatan for Smith and Newport. However, the 
improvident traffic allowed between Newport's mariners 
and the natives soon extremely enhanced the price of pro- 
visions, and the too protracted detention of his vessel made 
great inroads upon the public store. 

[The events described were followed by a visit to Powhatan, and 
the accidental burning of Jamestown, which took place on their re- 
turn. Other troubles succeeded.] 

The stock of provisions running low, the colonists at 
Jamestown were reduced to a diet of meal and water, and 
this, together with their exposure to cold after the loss 
of their habitations, cut off upwards of one-half of them. 
Their condition was made still worse by a rage for gold that 
now seized them. " There was no talk, no hope, no work, 
but dig gold, wash gold, refine gold, load gold." Smith, not 
indulging in these empty dreams of imaginary wealth, 
laughed at their infatuation in loading " such a drunken 
ship with gilded dust." 

Captain Newport, after a delay of three months and a 
half, being now ready to sail for England, the planters, 
having no use for parliaments, places, petitions, admirals, 
recorders, interpreters, chronologers, courts of plea, nor 
justices of the peace, sent Master Wingfield and Captain 
Archer home with him, so that they, who had engrossed all 
those titles to themselves, might seek some better place of 
employment. Newport carried with him twenty turkeys. 



Campbell] THE JAMESTOWN COLONY. 123 

which had been presented to him by Powhatan, who had 
demanded and received twenty swords in return for them. 
This fowl, pecuHar to America, had been many years before 
carried to England by some of the early discoverers of 
North America. 

After Newport's departure, Ratcliffe, the president, lived 
in ease, peculating on the public store. The spring now 
approaching, Smith and Scrivener undertook to rebuild 
Jamestown, repair the palisades, fell trees, prepare the 
fields, plant, and erect another church. While thus en- 
gaged they were joyfully surprised by the arrival of the 
Phoenix, commanded by Captain Nelson, who had left Eng- 
land with Newport about the end of the year 1607, and, 
after coming within sight of Cape Henry, had been driven 
off to the West Indies. He brought with him the re- 
mainder of the first supply, which comprised one hundred 
and twenty settlers. Having found provisions in the West 
Indies, and having economically husbanded his own, he im- 
parted them generously to the colony, so that now there 
was accumulated a store sufficient for half a year. 

Powhatan, having effected so advantageous an exchange 
with Newport, afterwards sent Smith twenty turkeys, but, 
receiving no swords in return, he was highly offended, and 
ordered his people to take them by fraud or force, and they 
accordingly attempted to seize them at the gates of James- 
town. The president and Martin, who now ruled, remained 
inactive, under pretence of orders from England not to 
offend the natives ; but some of them happening to meddle 
with Smith, he handled them so roughly, by whipping and 
imprisonment, as to repress their insolence. 

Pocahontas, in beauty of feature, expression, and form, 
far surpassed any of the natives, and in intelligence and 
spirit " was the nonpareil of her country." Powhatan, hear- 
ing that some of his people were kept prisoners at James- 



124 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell 

town, sent her, with Rawhunt (who was as remarkable for 
his personal deformity, but shrewd and crafty), with pres- 
ents of a deer and some bread, to sue for their ransom. 
Smith released the prisoners, and Pocahontas was dismissed 
with presents. Thus the scheme of Powhatan to destroy 
the English with their own swords was happily frustrated. 
The Phcenix was freighted w^ith a cargo of cedar, and 
the unserviceable, gold-hunting Captain Martin concluded 
to return with her to England. Of the one hundred and 
twenty settlers brought by Newport and Nelson, there 
were thirty-three gentlemen, twenty-one laborers (some of 
them only footmen), six tailors, two apothecaries, two jew- 
ellers, two gold-refiners, two goldsmiths, a gunsmith, a per- 
fumer, a surgeon, a cooper, a tobacco-pipe maker, and a 
blacksmith. 

[On the 2d of June, 1608, Smith left Jamestown with the purpose 
of exploring Chesapeake Bay. During this journey he discovered 
the Potomac and sailed up it to the head of navigation. He contin- 
ued his explorations, and during the summer, " with a few men, in a 
small barge, in his several voyages of discovery he traversed a distance 
of not less than three thousand miles." In September, 1608, he ac- 
cepted the office of president, which he had formerly declined.] 

Smith, the president, now set the colonists to work ; some 
to make glass, others to prepare tar, pitch, and soap-ashes; 
while he, in person, conducted thirty of them five miles 
below the fort to cut down trees and saw plank. Two of 
this lumber party happened to be young gentlemen who 
had arrived in the last supply. Smith sharing labor and 
hardship in common with the rest, these woodmen, at first, 
became apparently reconciled to the novel task, and seemed 
to listen with pleasure to the crashing thunder of the fall- 
ing trees ; but when the axes began to blister their unac- 
customed hands, they grew profane, and their frequent loud 
oaths echoed in the woods. Smith, taking measures to have 



Campbell] THE JAMESTOWN COLONY. 125 

the oaths of each one numbered, in the evening, for each 
offence, poured a can of water down the offender's sleeve; 
and this curious discipHne, or water-cure, was so effectual 
that after it was administered an oath would scarcely be 
heard in a week. Smith found that thirty or forty gentle- 
men who volunteered to woi'k could do more in a day than 
one hundred that worked by compulsion ; but he adds that 
twenty good workmen would have been better than the 
whole of them put together. 

[Further troubles with the Indians succeeded, and only the energy 
of the governor defeated the murderous schemes of Opechancanough.] 

Eeturning [from his visit to this chief], he descended the 
York as far as Werowocomoco, intending to surprise Pow- 
hatan there, and thus secure a further supply of corn ; but 
Powhatan had abandoned his new house, and had carried 
away all his corn and provisions; and Smith, with his 
party, returned to Jamestown. In this expedition, with 
twenty-five pounds of copper and fifty pounds of iron, and 
some beads, he procured, in exchange, two hundred pounds 
of deer suet, and delivered to the Cape merchant four 
hundred and seventy-nine bushels of corn. 

At Jamestown the provision of the j^ublic store had been 
spoiled by exposure to the rain of the previous summer, 
or eaten by rats and worms. The colonists had been living 
there in indolence, and a large part of their implements and 
arms had been trafficked away to the Indians. Smith 
undertook to remedy these disorders by discipline and labor, 
reheved by pastimes and recreations ; and he established it 
as a rule that he who would not work should not eat. The 
whole government of the colony was now, in effect, de- 
volved upon him. Captain Wynne being the only other 
surviving councillor, and the president having two votes. 
Shortly after Smith's return, he met the chief of Paspahegh 
I. 11* 



126 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell 

near Jamestown, and had a rencontre with him. This 
athletic savage attempting to shoot him, he closed and 
grappled, when, by main strength, the chief forced him into 
the river to drowni him. They struggled long in the water, 
until Smith, grasping the savage by the throat, wxllnigh 
strangled him, and, drawling his sword, was about to cut 
off his head, when he begged for his life so piteously that 
Smith spared him, and led him prisoner to Jamestown, 
where he put him in chains. He was daily visited by his 
wives, and children, and people, who brought presents to 
ransom him. At last he made his escape. Captain Wynne 
and Lieutenant Percy were desj)atched, with a party of 
fifty, to recapture him, failing in which they burned the 
chief's cabin and carried away his canoes. Smith now 
going out to "try his conclusions" with "the salvages," 
slew some, and made some prisoners, burned their cabins, 
and took their canoes and fishing-weirs. Shortly after- 
wards the president, passing through Paspahegh, on his 
way to the Chickahominy, was assaulted by the Indians ; 
but, upon his firing, and their discovering wdio he was, 
they threw down their arms and sued for peace. Oka- 
ning, a young warrior, who spoke in their behalf, in jus- 
tifjang the escape of their chief from imprisonment at 
Jamestown, said, " The fishes swim, the fowls fly, and the 
very beasts strive to escape the snare, and live." Smith's 
vigorous measures, together with some accidental circum- 
stances, so dismayed the savages that from this time to the 
end of his administration they gave no further trouble. 

[In 1609 an addition to the colony of five hundred men and women 
was sent out, with stores and provisions, in a fleet of nine vessels.] 

Upon the appearance of this fleet near Jamestown, 
Smith, not expecting such a supply, took them to be Span- 



Campbell] THE JAMESTOWN COLONY. 127 

iards, and prepared to encounter them, and the Indians 
readily offered their assistance. The colony had already, 
before the arrival of the fleet, been threatened with an- 
archy, owing to intelligence of the premature repeal of 
the charter, brought out by Captain Argall, and the new 
settlers had now no sooner landed than they gave rise to 
new confusion and disorder. The factious leaders, although 
they brought no commission with them, insisted on the 
abrogation of the existing charter, rejected the authority 
of Smith, whom they hated and feared, and undertook to 
usurp the government. Their capricious folly equalled 
their insolence : to-day the old commission must rule, to- 
morrow the new, the next day neither, — thus, by continual 
change, plunging all things into anarchy. 

Smith, filled with disgust, would cheerfully have em- 
barked for England, but, seeing little prospect of the ar- 
rival of the new commission (which was in the possession 
of Gates on the island of Bermudas), he resolved to put 
an end to these incessant plots and machinations. The 
ringleaders, Eatcliffe, Archer, and others, he arrested; to 
cut off another source of disturbance, he gave permission 
to Perc}', who was in feeble health, to embark for Eng- 
land, of which, however, he did not avail himself. West, 
with one hundred and twenty picked men, was detached 
to the falls of James Kiver, and Martin, with nearly the 
same number, to Nansemond. Smith's presidency having 
expired about this time, he had been succeeded by Martin, 
who, conscious of his incompetency, had immediately 
resigned it to Smith. Martin, at Nansemond, seized the 
chief, and, capturing the town, occupied it with his de- 
tachment ; but owing to want of judgment, or of vigilance, 
he suffered himself to be surprised by the savages, who 
slew many of his party, rescued the chief, and carried off 



128 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell 

their corn, Martin not long after returned to Jamestown, 
leaving his detachment to shift for themselves. 

Smith, going up the river to "West's settlement at the 
falls, found the English planted in a place not only subject 
to the river's inundation, but " surrounded by many intol- 
erable inconveniences." To remedy these, by a messenger 
he proposed to purchase from Powhatan his seat of that 
name, a little lower down the river. The settlers scorn- 
fully rejected the scheme, and became so mutinous that 
Smith landed among them and arrested the chief male- 
contents. But, overpowered by numbers, being supported 
by only five men, he was foi'ced to retire on board of a 
vessel lying in the river. The Indians daily supplied him 
with provisions, in requital for which the English plun- 
dered their corn, robbed their cultivated ground, beat 
them, broke into tHeir cabins, and made them prisoners. 
They complained to Captain Smith that the men whom 
he had sent there as their protectors " were w^orse than 
their old enemies, the Monacans." Smith, embarking, had 
no sooner set sail for Jamestown than many of West's 
party were slain by the savages. 

It so happened that before Smith's vessel had dropped 
a mile and a half down the river she ran aground, where- 
upon, making a virtue of necessity, he summoned the 
mutineers to a parley, and they, now seized with a panic 
on account of the assault of a mere handful of Indians, 
submitted themselves to his mercy. He again arrested 
the ringleaders, and established the rest of the party at 
Powhatan, in the Indian palisade fort, which was so well 
fortified by poles and bark as to defy all the savages in 
Virginia. Dry cabins were also found there, and nearly 
two hundred acres of ground ready to be planted, and it 
was called Nonsuch, as bein^ at once the strongest and 



Campbell] THE JAMESTOWN COLONY. 129 

most delightful place in the country. Nonsuch was the 
name of a royal residence in England. 

When Smith was now on the eve of his departure, the 
arrival of West again threw all things back into confusion. 
Nonsuch was abandoned, and all hands returned to the 
falls, and Smith, finding all his efforts abortive, embarked 
in a boat for Jamestown. During the voyage he was ter- 
ribly wounded, while asleep, by the accidental explosion 
of a bag of gunpowder, and in the paroxysm of pain he 
leaped into the river, and was wellnigh drowned before 
his companions could rescue him. Arriving at James- 
town in this helpless condition, he was again assailed by 
faction and mutiny, and one of his enemies even presented 
a cocked pistol at him in his bed ; but the hand wanted 
the nerve to execute what the heart was base enough to 
design. 

Eatcliffe, Archer, and their confederates laid plans to 
usurp the government of the colony, whereupon Smith's 
faithful soldiers, fired with indignation at conduct so in- 
famous, begged for permission to strike off their heads ; 
but this he refused. He refused also to surrender the 
presidency to Percy. For this Smith is censured by the 
historian Stith, who yet acknowledges that Percy was in 
too feeble health to control a mutinous colony. Anarchy 
being triumphant, Smith probably deemed it useless to ap- 
point a governor' over a mob. He at last, about Michael- 
mas, 1609, embarked for England, after a stay of a little 
more than two years in Virginia, to which he never 
returned. 

Here, then, closes the career of Captain John Smith 
in Virginia, " the father of the colony," and a hero like 
Bayard, " without fear and without reproach." 



130 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howison 

THE INDIAN MASSACRE IN VIRGINIA. 

ROBERT R. HOWISON. 

[No sooner had Captain Smith departed from the Jamestown colony 
than all order and subordination ceased. His energy and good sense 
had alone held the reckless colonists in check, and they quickly con- 
sumed all their provisions, and provoked the hostility of the Indians, 
■who refused to furnish them with supplies. Famine succeeded. Within 
six months, vice, anarchy, and starvation reduced the colony from four 
hundred and ninety to sixty persons, and these so feeble and miserable 
that had not relief come all must soon have perished. This period 
was long remembered under the name of the starving time. 

Soon after. Sir Thomas Gates arrived, but without supplies, and 
as the only escape from starvation he took the surviving colonists 
on his ships and set sail for Newfoundland. Fortunately, when they 
reached the mouth of the river they met Lord Delaware, who had 
been sent out as governor of the colony, with supplies and emigrants. 
The colonists were induced to return, and order and contentment were 
soon regained under the wise management of the new governor. 
Shortly afterwards seven hundred more men arrived, and the land, 
which had been held in common, was divided among the colonists, 
much to the advancement of agriculture. In 1613 occurred the mar- 
riage of John Rolfe, a young Englishman, with Pocahontas, the 
daughter of Powhatan, an event which improved the relations between 
the colonists and the Indians. Pocahontas was taken to England in 
1616, and died in 1617, leaving one son, from whom are descended some 
of the most respectable families in Virginia. In 1613, Captain Argall 
sailed from Virginia for the purpose of protecting the English fisher- 
men on the coast of Maine. He broke up a settlement which the 
French had made on Mt. Desert Island, near the Penobscot, reduced 
the French settlement at Port Eoyal, in Acadia, and entered the harbor 
of New York, where he compelled the Dutch traders to acknowledge 
the sovereignty of England. The effect of the last two operations, 
however, continued only till the disappearance of his ship. In 1615 
the colonists went eagerly into tobacco-culture, which soon became 
a mania ; the culture of corn and other grain being so neglected 
as to threaten renewed scarcity. In 1617 it is said that the yards^ 



Howison] the INDIAN MASSACRE IN VIRGINIA. 131 

the market square, and the very streets of Jamestown were full 
of the plants of this new article of commerce, to which the soil and 
climate of Virginia proved well adapted. In 1617, Captain Argall 
was made governor, and at once established a system of strict mili- 
tary rule which, in time, became almost a reign of terror. He was 
removed in 1619, and Sir George Yeardly sent out, under whose ad- 
ministration the colony flourished. In 1619 a representative body was 
organized, and met in Jamestown, where it adopted a colonial con- 
stitution. This was the first legislative action in America, and the 
first step towards American liberty. In the succeeding year (1620) a 
Dutch man-of-war sailed up the James and landed twenty negroes, 
who were quickly sold to the colonists. A happier introduction than 
this of African slavery was effected the same year, in the sending 
over of ninety young women, who were also sold to the colonists — as 
wives ; the price paid for each being one hundred and twenty pounds 
of tobacco. Sixty others were soon after sent, and the price rose to 
one hundred and fifty pounds of tobacco. 

But the Virginian colonists were now to pass through a danger as 
threatening as that of the "starving time." The death of Powhatan 
had removed their best friend among the Indians. The rapid increase 
of the colonists, and the spread of their settlements, alarmed the sav- 
ages, who, in 1622, formed a conspiracj' to destroy the whole colony. 
The story of this thrilling event we extract from Howison's " History 
of Virginia."] 

Since the marriage of Pocahontas with John Eolfe, the 
Indians had preserved the most peaceful relations with the 
settlers, and hopes were entertained that permanent friend- 
ship would be established between them. The dominion 
of Powhatan had descended to his brother Opitchapan, a 
feeble and decrepit chieftain, who was neither dreaded by 
the whites nor respected by his own subjects. But there 
was one mind among the natives which now exercised all 
the sway of superior genius and courage. Opecancanough 
has heretofore been mentioned. It is doubtful whether 
he was in any manner related to Powhatan, though he is 
often spoken of as his brother. Among the Indians and 
some of the whites prevailed a belief that he came from a 



132 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howison 

tribe far in the southwest, perhaps from the interior of 
Mexico. But in talents and influence he was now the 
ruling power among the savages. Profound in dissimula- 
tion, cruel by nature and habit, patient of suffering, skilled 
in every species of treachery, and possessed of a ready 
eloquence, always at his command, he soon gained over the 
minds of his inferiors an ascendency as resistless as it was 
dangerous. . . . 

The English had become careless and unsuspecting. 
Believing the natives to be their friends, they admitted 
them freely to their houses, sometimes supplied them with 
arms, employed them in hunting and fishing for their 
families, and in all respects treated them as faithful allies. 
As habits of industry and steady labor gained ground, the 
colonists relaxed their martial discipline. The plough was 
a more useful implement than the musket, and the sword 
had given place to the hoe and the pickaxe. Seduced by 
the present tranquillity, and by the fertile soil found in 
belts of land upon all the rivers running into the bay, they 
had extended their settlements until they were now nearly 
eighty in number and spread in scattered plantations over 
a space of several hundred miles. They were lulled into 
complete security by the demeanor of the natives, and 
those who were most zealous for religion were beginning to 
hope that the seeds of the truth were taking root in many 
untutored minds, and would, after a season, produce fruits 
of joy and peace. Some were not thus sanguine ; and 
among those who looked with most suspicion upon the 
Indians we mark the name of Jonas Stockam, a minister, 
who has left on record an open acknowledgment of his dis- 
trust. His strong common sense, his knowledge of human 
nature, and his obseiwations upon the natives around him, 
all confirmed his belief that they were yet highly dangerous, 
and that until their priests and " ancients" were destroyed 



Howison] the INDIAN MASSACRE IN VIRGINIA. 133 

no hope of their conversion need be entertained. But hib 
warnings, and slight proofs of enmity in the savages, were 
alike disregarded. The colonists remained immersed in 
unruffled security. 

In the mean time Opecancanough was preparing the 
actors in his infernal drama. Either in person or by his 
emissaries, he visited all the tribes composing the con- 
federacy over which Powhatan had held dominion. He 
roused them to revenge; represented their wrongs; wrought 
their passions to intensity by mingled promises of blood 
and of rapine; pointed to the defenceless state of the 
colonists, and established a complete organization for the 
work of death. ... The savages of Virginia were now 
embodied for their fatal purpose, and awaited but the 
signal from their leader to fall uj)on the unsuspecting col- 
onists. . . . 

On Friday, the 22d day of March (1622), the tragedy 
began. So perfect was the confidence of the settlers that 
they loaned the savages their boats to cross the rivers for 
their deadly purpose ; many of them even came in to take 
the morning meal with the whites, and brought deer, 
turkeys, fish, and fruits, which they offered for sale in the 
usual manner. But at mid-day the scene of blood was 
opened. Instantly, and as if by magic, the savages appeared 
at every point, and fell upon their victims with the weapons 
which first presented themselves. Neither age nor sex was 
spared. The tender infant was snatched from the mother 
to be butchered before her eyes ; wives were left weltering 
in blood in the presence of their husbands ; men helpless 
from age, or wholly without defence, were stricken down 
ere they could see the foe who assailed them. In one 
morning three hundred and forty-nine settlers were slain 
upon the several plantations. The murderers were lashed 
into frenzied excitement by their own passions; and, not 
I. 12 



134 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howison 

content with the work of death, they mutilated the corpses 
in a manner so revolting that the original recorders of this 
massacre shrink from the task of describing them. . . . 

It is remarkable that wherever resistance was made to 
these fiends it was entirely successful. Too cruel to be 
brave, they fled from the first vigorous onset ; and had the 
colonists received one hour's warning, no life would have 
been lost that was not dearly atoned for. An old soldier 
who had served under John Smith, although surrounded by 
Indians and severely wounded, clove the skull of one assail- 
ant with a single stroke of an axe, and the rest instantly 
took to flight. A Mr. Baldwin, whose wife was lying before 
his eyes, profusely bleeding from many wounds, by one well- 
directed discharge drove a crowd of murderers from his 
house. Several small parties of settlers obtained a few 
muskets from a ship that happened to be lying in the 
stream near their plantations, and with these they routed 
the savages in every direction and dispersed them in great 
alarm. 

[Jamestown was saved through information given by a young In- 
dian convert. Preparations for defence were hastily made, and the 
savages did not venture an assault.] 

The immediate eff'ects of this blow upon the colony 
were most disastrous. Horror and consternation per- 
vaded every mind ; nearly one-fourth of their whole num- 
ber had, in a single hour, been stricken down. The rest 
were hastily drawn together around Jamestown. Distant 
plantations were abandoned, and in a short time eighty 
settlements were reduced to six. Some few bold spirits 
(and among them a woman) refused to obey the order, 
and remained in their country-seats, among their ser- 
vants, mounting cannon at weak points, and preparing to 
meet the treacherous foe with becomino- courage. But 



y 



HowisoN] THE INDIAN MASSACRE IN VIRGINIA. 135 

they were compelled by law to abandou their strongholds 
and to unite their resources in the common fund. 

A terrible reaction in the feelings of the colonists im- 
mediately took place. ... A war ensued, in which the 
fiercest impulses that man can feel were called into being. 
No truce was ever declared. The Indians were shot 
down at any time and in any place in which they showed 
themselves. When seed-time approached, hostilities de- 
clined from absolute necessit3^ The English resorted to 
a stratagem which cannot be justified. Offering peace to 
the savages, they seduced them from their places of con- 
cealment ; but in the midst of their labor they rushed 
upon them, cut down their corn, and put to death a large 
number, among whom were several of their greatest war- 
riors and most skilful chieftains. So embittered and so 
deep was the feeling of hatred thus engendered between 
the races that for many years it was transmitted from 
father to son. The colonists looked upon the Indians as 
their hereditary foes, and the unhappy natives never spoke 
of the " long knives" without fear and execration. 

[During the immediately succeeding period no events of any marked 
importance occurred in Virginia. In 1624 the London Company was 
dissolved, and Virginia became a royal government. But the rights of 
trial by jury and of a representative Assembly, which had been granted 
by the Company, were retained, and all succeeding colonies claimed 
the same, so that from the formation of the colonial Assembly of Vir- 
ginia we may date the beginning of the evolutiwn of American liberty. 
In 1643 another Indian massacre took place, instigated by the same 
implacable chief.] 

The Indians were now inveterate enemies. Peace was 
never thought of Successive enactments of the Assem- 
bly made it a solemn duty to fall upon the natives at 
stated periods of the year, and heavy penalties were vis- 
ited upon all who traded with them or in any way pro- 



•136 AMERICAN HISTORY. [HowisoN 

vided them with arms and ammunition. The whites 
were steadily increasing both in moral and physical 
strength ; the Indians were as rapidly wasting away be- 
fore the breath of civilization. A few incursions, — a few 
convulsive efforts, always attended by heavy loss to them- 
selves, — one final struggle, — these will complete their his- 
tory in eastern Yirginia. 

The illegal grants favored by Sir John Hervey had pro- 
voked the natives into active hostility. They saw their 
hunting-grounds successively swept away by a power 
which they were unable to resist, and all the passions of 
the savage arose to demand revenge. . . . Among the na- 
tives there still lived a hero who had proved himself a for- 
midable adversary even when encountered by European 
skill. Opecancanough had attained the hundredth year 
of his life. Declining age had bowed a foi-m once emi- 
nent in stature and manly strength. Incessant toil and 
watchfulness had wasted his flesh and left him gaunt and 
withered, like the forest-tree stripped of its foliage by the 
frosts of winter. His eyes had lost their brightness, and 
so heavily did the hand of age press upon him that his 
eyelids drooped from weakness, and he required the aid 
of an attendant to raise them that he might see objects 
around him. Yet within this tottering and wasted body 
burned a soul which seemed to have lost none of its origi- 
nal energy. A quenchless fire incited him to hostility 
against the settlers. He yet wielded great influence 
among the members of the Powhatan confederacy ; and 
by his wisdom, his example, and the veneration felt for 
his age, he roused the savages to another eff'ort at general 
massacre. 

The obscurity concerning the best records which remain 
of this period has rendered doubtful the precise time at 
which this fatal irruption occurred ; yet the most proba- 



HowisoN] THE INDIAN MASSACRE IN VIRGINIA. 137 

ble period would seem to be the close of the year 1643. 
The Indians were drawn together "wuth great secrecy and 
skill, and were instructed to fall upon the colonists at the 
same time, and to spare none who could be safely butch- 
ered. Five hundred victims sank beneath their attack. 
The assault was most violent and fatal upon the upper 
waters of the Pamunkey and the York, where the settlers 
were yet thin in number and but imperfectly armed. But 
in every place where resistance was possible the savages 
were routed with loss, and driven back in dismay to their 
fastnesses in the forest. 

Sir William Berkeley instantly placed himself at the head 
of a chosen body, composed of every twentieth man able 
to bear arms, and marched to the scene of devastation. 
Finding the savages dispersed, and all organized resistance 
at an end, he followed them with a troop of cavalry. The 
aged chief had taken refuge in the neighborhood of his 
seat at Pamunkey. His strength was too much enfeebled 
for vigorous flight. His limbs refused to bear him, and his 
dull vision I'endered him an eas}^ pi"ey. He was overtaken 
by the pursuers, and carried in triumph back to James- 
town. 

Finding the very soul of Indian enmity now within his 
power, the governor had determined to send him to Eng- 
land as a royal captive, to be detained in honorable cus- 
tody until death should close his earthly career. . . . But 
a death of violence awaited him. A brutal wretch, urged 
on b}^ desire to revenge injuries to the whites which had 
long been forgotten or forgiven, advanced with his musket 
behind the unhappy chieftain and shot him through the 
back. . . . 

The wound thus given was mortal. Opecancanough 
lingered a few days in agony ; yet to the last moment of 
his life he retained his majesty and sternness of demeanor. 
I. 12* 



i 



138 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Scharf 

A crowd of idle beings collected around him to sate their 
unfeeling curiosity with a view of his person and his con- 
duct. Hearing the noise, the dying Indian feebly motioned 
to his attendants to raise his eyelids, that he might learn 
the cause of this tumult. A flash of wounded pride and 
of just indignation, for a moment, revived his waning 
strength. He sent for the governor, and addressed to him 
that keen reproach which has so well merited preserva- 
tion : " Had I taken Sir William Berkeley prisoner, I 
would not have exposed him as a show to my people." 
In a short time afterwards he expired. . . . 

After the death of this warrior, the celebrated confed- 
eracy of Powhatan was immediately dissolved. ... It 
was without a head, and the members fell away and 
speedily lost all tendency to cohesion. The Indians had 
learned, by fatal experience, that they contended in vain 
with the whites. . . . They have faded away and gradu- 
ally disappeared, never more to return. 



THE SETTLEMENT OF MARYLAND. 

J. THOMAS SCHARF 

[The country near the head of Chesapeake Bay was first explored by 
Captain John Smith. It afterwards formed part of the grant that was 
made by Charles I to Sir George Calvert, by title Lord Baltimore, a 
Roman Catholic nobleman. Inspired by the same feeling that had 
moved the Puritans, he sought to establish a refuge in America for men 
of his religious faith, who were persecuted in England. With this 
purpose he planted, in 1621, a Catholic colony in Newfoundland. But 
the unfavorable soil and climate, and annoyances from the hostile 
French, soon ended his hopes in that quarter. He next visited Vir- 
ginia, but found there a religious intolerance hostile to his purposes. 



Scharf] the settlement OF MARYLAND. 139 

The territory finally granted him extended from the upper Chesapeake 
to the fortieth degree, the latitude of Philadelphia. 

The charter given to Lord Baltimore, unlike any previously granted, 
secured to the emigrants equality in religious rights and civil freedom, 
and an independent share in the legislation of the province. The 
colony was formed in 1634 by two hundred emigrants, mostly Koman 
Catholics, who entered the Potomac and purchased of the Indians a 
village on the St. Mary's Kiver, about ten miles from its junction with 
the Potomac. The policy of paying the Indians for their land, and 
their subsequent equitable treatment, inaugurated peaceful relations, 
though these did not remain long undisturbed. The treaty of Calvert 
with the Indians, though less dramatic, resembled in principle the 
celebrated one made many years afterwards by William Penn. Its 
character is clearly stated by J. T. Scharf in his excellent " History 
of Maryland."] 

Instead of treating the aborigines as wild beasts, or 
savages toward whom no moral law was binding, he dealt 
with them as with men whose rights had a claim to respect. 
He raised no sophistical question whether savages could 
acquire or transfer any rights in the soil, or whether it 
was worth while to pay them any price for what they 
were preparing to abandon. The quantity of goods given 
them is not known ; but the compensation was satisfactory, 
and there is no reason for alleging that it was not ample. 
The land ceded was mostly forest hunting-grounds ; and 
the former possessors left them only to remove to others 
chosen in the boundless wilderness. The articles given in 
exchange were not trinkets and cheap gewgaws to pamper 
savage vanity, nor the maddening draught that has been 
the bane of the race, nor the arms that would render their 
internal wars more deadly and hasten their extermination ; 
they were not merely of intrinsic worth, but of absolutely 
inestimable value to the Indian, who could procure nothing 
comparable to them, and was at once raised a degree in 
civilization by their acquisition. The possession of an 



140 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Scharf 

axe of steel instead of his rude tool of stone multiplied 
his strength and efficiency a hundredfold. If the whites 
occupied his fields, they gave him, in improved imple- 
ments, the means of raising larger crops, with less labor, 
in his new abode; if they restricted his hunting-grounds, 
they taught him to dispense with his rude garment of 
skin, and clothed him in the warmer fabric of the loom. 

The Indians, on their side, faithfully performed their 
part of the contract. They shared at once their cabins 
with the strangers and prepared to abandon them and the 
cultivated fields as soon as the corn was harvested. In the 
mean time they mingled freely with the colonists, who 
employed many of their women and children in their fami- 
lies. From them the wives and daughters of the settlers 
learned the modes of preparing maize and other products 
of the soil. While the colonist of New England ploughed 
his field with his musket on his back, or was aroused from 
his slumber by the hideous war-whoop to find hi& dwelling 
in flames, the settlers of St. Mary's accompanied the red 
warrior to the chase and learned his arts of woodcraft ; 
and the Indian coming to the settlement with wild tur- 
keys or venison found a friendly reception and an honest 
market, and, if belated, wrapped himself in his mantle of 
skins or duffield cloth and lay down to sleep by the white 
man's fireside, unsuspecting and unsuspected. 

Such were the happy results of the truly Christian spirit 
that animated the first Maryland colonists. 

[Trouble with the Indians began as early as 1641, in the incursions 
of the Susquehannoughs, a fierce tribe, which had always been hostile 
to the colonists. These savages had now acquired the possession and 
learned the use of fire-arms. The sale of arms and ammunition to 
them had been made penal in the colony, but the Swedes and Dutch 
on the Delaware freely supplied them with these dangerous articles. 
There resulted a war with the Indians, which extended from 1642 to 



Scharf] the settlement OF MARYLAND. 141 

1644. In the mean time Calvert was given great trouble by "William 
Claiborne, a Virginian who had in 1631 established a trading-station 
on the island of Kent and one near the mouth of the Susquehanna, 
and who for years continued to contest the rights of the lord pro- 
prietary. He even organized a rebellion, and for a time drove the 
governor from the province. 

Maryland has the honor of being the first country to establish the 
principle of religious toleration to people of all faiths. George Cal- 
vert "was the first," says Bancroft, "in the history of the Christian 
world, to seek for religious security and peace by the practice of jus- 
tice and not by the exercise of power ; to plan the establishment of 
popular institutions with the enjoyment of liberty of conscience ; to 
advance the career of civilization by recognizing the rightful equality 
of all Christian sects." The religious toleration which already ex- 
isted by charter was further established by a law of the Maryland 
Assembly, of April 2, 1649. Ehode Island had previously passed a 
similar law. We quote the significant section of this important en- 
actment.] 

" And whereas the inforcing of the conscience in mat- 
ters of religion hiith frequently fallen out to bee of danger- 
ous consequence in those commonwealths where it hath 
beene practiced, and for the more quiet and peaceable gov- 
ernment of this province, and the better to preserve mutuall 
love and unity among the inhabitants here, Bee it, there- 
fore, also by the lord proprietary, with the advice and 
assent of this assembl}', ordained and enacted, . . . that 
no person or persons whatsoever within this province or 
the islands, ports, harbours, creeks, or havens thereunto 
belonging, professing to believe in Jesus Christ, shall from 
henceforth be any waies troubled, molested, or discounte- 
nanced, for or in respect of his or her religion, nor in the 
free exercise thereof within this province or the islands 
thereunto belonging, nor any way compelled to the be- 
liefe or exercise of any other religion against his or her 
consent, so as they be not uufaithfull to the lord proprie- 
tary, or molest or conspire against the civill government, 



142 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Schaef 

estabblished or to be estabblished in this province under 
him or his heyres ; and that all and every person or persons 
that shall presume contrary to this act and the true intent 
and meaning thereof, directly or indirectl}'-, eyther in per- 
son or estate, wilfully to wrong, disturbe, or trouble, or 
molest any person or persons whatsoever within this 
province, professing to believe in Jesus Christ, for or in 
respect of his or her religion, or the free exercise thereof 
within this province, . . . shall be compelled to pay treble 
damages to the party so wronged or molested, and for 
every such offence shall also forfeit 20s. sterling in money 
or the value thereof, ... or if the party so offending as 
aforesaid, shall refuse or bee unable to recompence the 
party so wronged or to satisfie such fine or forfeiture, 
then such offender shall be severely piinished by publick 
whipping and imprisonment during the pleasure of the 
lord proprietary or his lieutenant or chiefe governour of 
this province for the time being, without baile or main- 
prise." 

[The act here given also punishes with fine whoever shall denomi- 
nate any person as " an Heretick, Schismatick, Idolater, Puritan 
Presbyterian, Independent, Popish Priest, Jesuit, Jesuited Papist, 
Lutheran, Calvinist, Anabaptist, Brownist, Antinomian, Barrowist, 
Roundhead, Separatist, or other name or terme in a reproachful man- 
ner, relating to matters of religion," or shall blaspheme or deny any of 
the persons of the Holy Trinity, or speak reproachfully of the Virgin 
Mary, or shall break the Sabbath by drunkenness, swearing, disorderly 
recreation, or work except when absolutely necessary. 

The enactment here described was one worthy to be printed in let- 
ters of gold, as an example of remarkable breadth of view and spirit 
of tolerance for the age of religious bigotry in which it was passed. 
Its principle was not long permitted t© continue in force. During the 
Puritan ascendency in England the government was taken from the 
proprietor, and the Catholics of Maryland were disfranchised, excluded 
from the Assembly, and declared not entitled to the protection of the 
law. In January of the following year (1655), Stone, the lieutenant 



Schakf] the settlement OF MARYLAND. 14:-^ 

of Lord Baltimore, resumed his ofl5ce, and a civil war ensued, which 
is worth describing, as the first instance of civil war in America.] 

Lord Baltimore, learning the surrender of Governor 
Stone, and that the affairs of the province were adminis- 
tered by commissioners appointed by Claiborne, and his 
associates, in the latter part of 1654, despatched a special 
messenger . . . with a severe rebuke to the governor for 
80 tamely yielding his authority, and an order to him to 
resume it immediately. 

The ship arrived in January, 1655, N. S., and Captain 
Stone jiroceeded to issue commissions to oflScers, and to 
organize an armed force in the county of St. Mary's. In 
a short time he found himself at the head of about one 
hundred and thirty men. 

[With this force he recovered the records of the province, and cap- 
tured a magazine of arms and ammunition from the Puritans.] 

About the twentieth of March, Stone set out with his 
little army for Providence. He had pressed into his ser- 
vice eleven or twelve small vessels for the transportation 
of part of his forces, and part marched by land along the 
bay shore. . . . Governor Stone, with his little fleet and 
army, entered the outer harbor of Providence (Annapolis 
harbor) late in the evening of March 24. . . . 

Stone had no sooner drawn up his force in array upon 
the shore, than the Golden Lyon and Captain Cut's vessel 
opened fire upon them, killing one man, and compelling 
him to retire a little up the neck of land. In the mean 
time, Captain Fuller, at the head of one hundred and sev- 
enty men, embarked in boats, and, having gone " over the 
river some six miles distant from the enemy," landed, and 
made a circuit around the head of the creek, proposing to 
take Stone's force in flank and rear. On their approach 
the sentry fired a gun, and an engagement followed, which 



144 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Scharf 

is thus described by Leonard Strong, one of Fuller's 
council, in his pamphlet, " Babylon's Fall." 

" Captain Fuller, still expecting that then, at last, pos- 
sibly they might give a reason of their coming, commanded 
his men, on pain of death, not to shoot a gun, or give the 
first onset; setting up the standard of the commonwealth 
of England, against which the enemy shot five or six guns 
and killed one man in the front before a shot was made by 
the other. Then the word was given : In the name of God, 
fall on ; God is our strength — that was the word for Provi- 
dence : the Marylanders' word was Hey for Saint Maries. 
The charge was fierce and sharp for the time ; but, through 
the glorious presence of the Lord of hosts manifested in 
and towards his poor oppressed people, the enemy could 
not endure, but gave back, and were so effectually charged 
home that they were all routed, turned their backs, threw 
down their arms, and begged mercy. After the first vol- 
ley of shot, a small company of the enemy, from behind 
a great tree fallen, galled us, and wounded divers of our 
men, but were soon beaten off. Of the whole company of 
the Marylanders there escaped only four or five, who ran 
away out of the army to carry news to their confederates. 
Captain Stone, Colone'l Price, Captain Gerrard, Captain 
Lewis, Captain Kendall, Captain Guither, Major Chan-dler, 
and all the rest of the councillors, officers, and soldiers of 
the Lord Baltimore, among whom, both commanders and 
souldiers, a great number being Papists, were taken, and so 
were all their vessels, arms, ammunition, provision ; about 
fifty men slain and wounded. We lost only two in the 
field ; but two died since of their wounds. God did appear 
wonderful in the field and in the hearts of the people ; all 
confessing Him to be the only worker of this victory and 
deliverance." 

Strong's pamphlet is, no doubt, strongly colored by 



Palfrey] THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 145 

partisanship, but, whatever the exact details, the Puritans 
were completely victorious. ..." Two or three daj's after 
the victors condemned ten to death, and executed foure, 
and had executed all, had not the incessant petitioning 
and begging of some good women saved some, and the 
souldiers others ; the governor himself being condemned 
by them, and since beg'd by the souldiers ; some being 
saved just as they were leading out to execution." 

[In 1658, on the restoration of monarchy in England, the proprie- 
tor regained his authority in Maryland. A new disturbance between 
Protestants and Catholics occurred iu 1689, at the period of the Eng- 
lish revolution, and Lord Baltimore was deprived of his rights by the 
king in 1691. Religious toleration was abolished, and the Church of 
England established as the state religion. After more than twenty 
years, the infant heir of Lord Baltimore, then a Protestant, was restored 
to his proprietorship, and Maryland remained a proprietary govern- 
ment until the Revolution.] 



THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 

JOHN GORHAM PALFREY. 

[The discovery and settlement of New England was a slow process. 
It possibly began with the voyages of the Northmen, though the 
locality of Vinland can never be definitely known. The English 
claim to the territory was based on the voyages of the Cabots, in 
which the coast was visited from the far north to the thirty-eighth (or 
perhaps to the thirty-sixth) degree of north latitude. The New Eng- 
land coast was afterwards visited by Cortereal, by Verrazano, and by 
several later voyagers. Yet during the sixteenth century no part of it 
was explored, and no effort made at colonization. Gosnold, in 1602, 
made an unsuccessful attempt to plant a colony on Martha's Vineyard. 
Martin Pring made a trading-voyage to the coast in 1603. In 1605 
George Weymouth entered the Kennebec or the Penobscot River. 
About the same time the French essayed to plant a colony on Cape 
I.— G k l.S 



146 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Palfrei 

Cod, but were driven off by the Indians. In 1606 the Plymouth and 
London Companies, for the purpose of planting colonies in America, 
were formed in London, the patent of the first-named covering the 
coast of New England, to which a colony was sent in 1607. It landed 
at the mouth of the Kennebec River, but the colonists became dis- 
couraged, and returned on the ships, with the exception of forty-five, 
who spent a long and severe winter on the coast and returned to Eng- 
land in the following spring. A party of French established them- 
selves on Mount Desert Island in 1613, but were driven off after a few 
weeks' stay by Captain Argal, of Virginia. The next effort to colo- 
nize this region was made by Captain John Smith, who had already 
given permanence to the Virginia colony by his shrewdness and energy. 
He explored the coast in 1614, and made a map of it, giving its pres- 
ent name to the country. But his earnest efforts to found a colony 
failed, through discouraging circumstances, and despite his persistent 
endeavors. Other voyages were made, and a trading-party remained 
on the coast during the winter of 1616-17, but all such efforts to es- 
tablish trading-colonies ended in failure, and it was not until the ar- 
rival of the Puritan agriculturists in 1620 that a permanent colony 
was formed. 

No detailed explanation as to who the Puritans were is here de- 
manded. It will suffice to say that long before the establishment of 
the English Episcopal Church by Henry VIII. there had been in 
England a large body of religious reformers, and that after that 
period these continued to exist, under the titles of Non-Conformists, 
Separatists, Brownists, etc., despite the persecutions to which they were 
subjected. Among the congregations of Separatists are two with 
which we are particularly concerned. One was gathered at Gains- 
borough, in Lincolnshire, the other at the village of Scrooby, in 
Nottinghamshire. They were composed of simple agriculturists, yet 
they found the repression of religious liberty to which they were sub- 
jected so intolerable that they determined to emigrate to Holland, 
where they had heard that freedom of thought was permitted. After 
great difficulty, the Scrooby congregation succeeded in reaching Am- 
sterdam, where they found the Gainsborough people, and a London 
congregation that had emigrated some twelve or fifteen years before. 
In 1616 they removed to Leyden. But the political agitation which 
arose in Holland made that country a disagreeable place of residence, 
and they finally determined to emigrate to America, where they might 
be free to worship God in their own way without hinderance. 



Palfrey] THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 147 

They well knew the perils and difficulties they would have to en- 
counter, and even magnified them, but were prepared to endure them 
all for the blessing of religious liberty. Some thought of joining the 
colony in Virginia; others, of going to Guiana, where Sir Walter 
Raleigh then was, on a second visit. Negotiations were entered into 
.with the Dutch, with a view to emigrate to the Hudson. But they 
finally concluded to establish a new colony on the northern American 
coast, where they would be free from any interference with their fixed 
purposes. In July, 1620, they embarked for England in the ship 
Speedwell. Here, in the port of Southampton, they found the May- 
flower, a vessel of one hundred and eighty tons' burden, which had 
been engaged for the voyage. Two starts were made, but in each case 
they were obliged to return, the Speedwell proving unseaworthy. 
Finally, on September 6, the Mayflower sailed alone, and " put to sea 
with a prosperous wind." Among the leading spirits of the expedi- 
tion may be named Bradford and Brewster, members of the original 
Scrooby congregation, Winslow, a personage of superior condition to 
his companions, who had joined them in Holland, and Miles Standish, 
who was not a member of the church, but who loved adventure, and 
whose military knowledge was of great value to the emigrants. The 
story of the voyage and landing we extract from Palfrey's admirable 
" History of New England."] 

The colonists, — men, women, and children, — who were 
now embarked on board the Mayflower, were a hundred 
and two in number. Concerning ve'y few of them is it 
known to this day from what English homes they came. 
. . . Little is recorded of the incidents of the voyage. 
The first part was favorably made. As the wanderers 
approached the American continent, they encountered 
storms which their overburdened vessel was scarcely able 
to sustain. Their destination was to a point near the Hud- 
son River, yet within the territory of the London Company, 
by which their patent had been granted. This description 
corresponds to no other country than the sea-coast of the 
State of New Jersey. At early dawn of the sixty-first 
day of their voyage (November 9, 1620) they came in 
sight of the white sand-banks of Cape Cod. In pursuance 



148 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Palfrey 

of their original purpose, they veered to the south, but 
by the middle of the day they found themselves " among 
perilous shoals and breakers," which caused them to re- 
trace their course. An opinion afterwards prevailed, on 
questionable gi'ounds, that they had been purposely led 
astray by the master of the vessel, induced by a bribe 
from the Dutch, who were averse to having them near 
the mouth of the Hudson, which Dutch vessels had begun 
to visit for trade. 

The narrow peninsula, sixty miles long, which termi- 
nates in Cape Cod, projects eastwardly from the mainland 
of Massachusetts, in shape resembling the human arm 
bent rectangularly at the elbow and again at the wrist. 
In the basin enclosed landward by the extreme point of 
this projection, in the roadstead of what is now Province- 
town, the Mayflower dropped her anchor at noon on a 
Saturday near the close of autumn (November 11). 

[Here was drawn up and signed an instrument constituting a brief 
governmental compact, and John Carver, who had been instrumental 
in obtaining from the king permission for their enterprise, was chosen 
governor of the colony.] 

In the afternoon, " fifteen or sixteen men, well armed," 
were sent on shore to reconnoitre and collect fuel. They 
returned at evening, reporting that they had seen neither 
person nor dwelling, but that the country was well wooded, 
and that the appearance as to soil was promising. 

Having kept their Sabbath in due retirement, the men 
began the labors of the week by landing a shallop from 
the ship, and hauling it up the beach for repairs, while 
the women went on shore to wash clothes. While the 
carpenter and his men were at work on the boat, sixteen 
others, armed and provisioned, with Standish for their 
commander, set off on foot to explore the country. The 
only incident of this day was the sight of five or six sav- 



Palfrey] THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 149 

ages, who, on their approach, ran away too swiftly to be 
overtaken. At night, lighting a fire and setting a guard, 
the party bivouacked at the distance, as they supposed, 
of ten miles from their vessel. Proceeding southward next 
morning, they observed marks of cultivation, some heaps 
of earth, which they took for signs of graves, and the re- 
mains of a hut, with "a great kettle, which had been 
some ship's kettle." In a heap which they opened, they 
found two baskets containing four or five bushels of In- 
dian corn, of which they took as much as they could carry 
away in their pockets and in the kettle. Farther on they 
saw two canoes and " an old fort or palisado, made by 
some Christians," as they thought. The second night, 
which was rainy, they encamped again, with more pre- 
cautions than before. On Friday evening, having lost 
their way meanwhile, and been amused by an accident to 
Bradford, who was caught in an Indian deer-trap, they 
returned to their friends " both weary and welcome, and 
delivered in their corn into the store to be kept for seed, 
for they knew not how to come by any, and therefore 
were very glad, proposing, as soon as they could meet 
with any of the inhabitants of that place, to make them 
large satisfaction." 

[The succeeding week was passed in necessary labors, and in explo- 
ration of the coast in the shallop. Landing, they found some more 
corn and a bag of beans, and several miles inland a grave containing 
"bowls, trays, dishes," "a knife, a pack-needle," "a little bow," and 
some " strings and bracelets of fine white beads." Two wigwams were 
seen. On December 6 another exploration was made. The cold was 
extreme. Coasting for six or seven leagues, they saw a party of In- 
dians, who ran away. They continued to explore during the next day, 
but found no inhabitants.] 

The following morning, at daylight, they had just ended 
their prayers, and were preparing breakfast at their camp 
I 13* 



150 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Palfrey 

ou the beach, when they heard a yell, and a flight of 
arrows fell among them. The assailants turned out to 
he thirty or forty Indians, who, being fired upon, retired. 
Neither side had been harmed. A number of the arrows 
were picked up, " some whereof were headed with brass, 
others with hart's horn, and others with eagles' claws." 

Getting on board, they sailed all day along the shore in 
a storm of snow and sleet, making, b}^ their estimate, a 
distance of forty or fifty miles, without discovering a 
harbor. In the afternoon, the gale having increased, their 
rudder was disabled, and they had to steer with oars. At 
length the mast was carried away, and they drifted in the 
dark with a flood-tide. With diflSculty they brought up 
under the lee of a " small rise of land." Here a part of 
the company, suffering from wet and cold, went on shore, 
though not without fear of hostile neighbors, and lighted 
a fire by which to pass the inclement night. In the 
morning " they found themselves to be on an island secure 
from the Indians, where they might dry their stuff, fix 
their pieces, and rest themselves ; and, this being the last 
day of the week, they prepared there to keep the Sabbath." 

" On Monday they sounded the harboi*, and found it fit 
for shipping, and marched also into the land, and found 
divers cornfields and little running brooks, a place, as they 
supposed, fit for situation ; ... so they returned to their 
ship again with this news to the rest of their people, 
which did much to comfort their hearts." Such is the 
record of that event which has made the twenty-second of 
December a memorable day in the calendar.* 

* A trustworthy tradition has preserved a knowledge of the landing- 
place, naturally an object of interest both to the inhabitants and to 
strangers. It was Plymouth Eock. Part of it is now embedded in 
a wharf. ... In 1775 the rock was broken into two pieces in an at- 
tempt to remove it to the town square. The large fragment which was 



Palfrey] THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 151 

No time was now lost. By the end of the week the 
Mayflower had brought her company to keep their Sab- 
bath by their future home. Further examination con- 
firmed the agreeable impressions which had been received. 
There was found a convenient harbor, " compassed with 
a goodly land." The countiy was well wooded. It had 
clay, sand, and shells, for bricks, mortar, and pottery, and 
stone for wells and chimneys ; the sea and beach promised 
abundance of fish and fowl, and " four or five small running 
brooks" brought a supply of "very sweet fresh water." 
After prayer for further divine guidance, they fixed upon 
a spot for the erection of their dwellings, in the neighbor- 
hood of a brook " and many delicate springs," and of a 
hill suitable for a lookout and a defence. A storm inter- 
rupted their proceeding. When it was past, " so many of 
them as could went on shore, felled and cam-ied timber, 
to provide themselves stuff for building." Then came 
Sunday, when " the people on shore heard a cry of some 
savages, as they thought, which caused an alarm and to 
stand on their guard, expecting an assault ; but all was 
quiet." They were still without the shelter of a roof. At 
the sharp winter solstice of New England, there was but 

" A screen of leafless branches 
Between them and the blast." 

But it was the Lord's hallowed time, and the work of 

separated was in 1834 placed before Pilgrim Hall and enclosed within 
an iron railing. The tradition does not appear to have unequivocally 
determined who it was that landed upon the rock, whether the ex- 
ploring party of ten men who went ashore at Plymouth, December 11 
(Old Style), or the whole company who came into Plymouth harbor in 
the Mayflower on Saturday, December 16, and who, or a part of whom, 
" went a land" two days after. The received opinion, that the same 
landing-place, as being the most convenient within sight, was used on 
both occasions, appears altogether probable. 



152 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Palfrey 

building must wait. Next followed the day solemnized, 
in the ancient fanes of the continent they had left, with 
the most pompous ritual of what they esteemed a vain 
will-worship. And the reader pauses to ponder and analyze 
the feeling of stern exultation with which its record Avas 
made: "Monday, the 25th day, we went on shore, some 
to fell timber, some to saw, some to rive, and some to 
carry ; so no man rested all that day." 

The first operations were the beginning of a platform for 
the ordnance, and of a building, twentj'- feet square, for a 
storehouse and for common occupation. Nineteen plots 
for dwellings were laid out, on the opposite sides of a way 
running along the north side of the brook. The number 
of plots corresponded to that of the families into which 
the company was now divided ; the appropriation was 
made by lot ; and the size of each plot was such as to allow 
half a rod in breadth, and three rods in depth, for each 
person included in the family. It " was agreed that each 
man should build his own house." "The frost and foul 
weather hindered them much." " Seldom could they work 
half the week." Time was lost in going to and from the 
vessel, to which in the severe cold they were obliged often 
to repair for lodging. They were delayed in unloading 
for want of boats; and stone, mortar, and thatch were 
slowly provided. 

These were discouraging circumstances ; but far worse 
troubles were to come. The labor of providing habita- 
tions had scarcely begun, when sickness set in, the con- 
sequence of exposure and bad food. "Within four months 
it carried off nearly half their number. Six died in Decem- 
ber, eight in January, seventeen in February, and thirteen 
in March. At one time during the winter only six or seven 
had strength enough left to nurse the dying and bury the 
dead. Destitute of every provision which the weakness 



Palfrey] THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 153 

and the daintiness of the invalid require, the sick lay- 
crowded in the unwholesome vessel, or in half-built cabins 
heaped around with snow-drifts. The rude sailors refused 
them even a share of those coarse sea-stores which would 
have given a little variety to their diet, till disease spread 
among the crew, and the kind ministrations of those whom 
they had neglected and affronted bi-ougbt them to a better 
temper. The dead were interred in a bluff by the water- 
side, the marks of burial being carefully effaced, lest the 
natives should discover how the colony had been weakened. 
The imagination vainly tasks itself to comprehend the 
horrors of that fearful winter. The only mitigations were 
that the cold was of less severity than is usual in the 
place, and that there was not an entire want of food and 
shelter. 

Meantime, courage and fidelity never gave out. The 
well carried out the dead through the cold and snow, and 
then hastened back from the burial to wait on the sick ; 
and as the sick began to recover, they took the places of 
those whose strength had been exhausted. There was no 
time and there was no inclination to despond. The lesson 
rehearsed at Leyden was not forgotten, " that all great and 
honorable actions are accompanied with great difficulties, 
and must be both enterprised and overcome with answer- 
able courages." The dead had died in a good service, and 
the fit way for survivors to honor and lament them was to 
be true to one another, and to work together bravely for 
the cause to which dead and living had alike been conse- 
crated. The devastation increased the necessity of prepa- 
rations for defence ; and it was at the time when the com- 
pany was diminishing at the rate of one on every second 
day, that a military organization was formed, with Stand- 
ish for the captain, and the humble fortification on the hill 
overlooking the dwellings was mounted with five guns. 



154 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Robertson 

" "Warm and fair weather" came at length, and " the 
birds sang in the woods most pleasantly." ^Never was 
spring more welcome than when it opened on this afflicted 
company. 

[Their fears of trouble with the Indians proved not unfounded 
The friendliness at first displayed by the savages soon gave way to 
threats of hostilities. In 1622 the Narragansetts sent to the colony 
a bundle of arrows tied with a snake-skin, as a declaration of war. 
Bradford, the governor, with grim humor, filled the snake-skin with 
powder and ball, and returned it. The frightened savages refused to 
keep it. It passed from hand to hand, and at length came back to 
Plymouth. A conspiracy to murder the settlers was discovered in 
1623, and repressed by Standish, who killed the ringleaders of the plot. 
This settled all Indian troubles for years. The colony of Plymouth 
prospered from that time forward. It never attained great dimen- 
sions, the Boston colony proving more attractive to settlers, but " the 
virtue displayed in its institution and management, and the great 
consequences to which it led," will always claim for it the attention 
of mankind. After several eff"orts to found other colonies, one was 
established at Salem in 1628. This " Colony of Massachusetts Bay" 
made rapid progress, and by 1634 "between three and four thousand 
Englishmen were distributed among twenty hamlets along and near 
the sea-shore." The work of establishing an English agricultural set- 
tlement in New England had been accomplished.] 



RELIGIOUS DISSENSIONS IN NEW ENGLAND. 

WILLIAM ROBERTSON. 

[The New England colonists made vigorous eflTorts to establish firmly 
their political rights. The original charter contained no provision for 
the self-government or religious freedom of the people, who were left, 
in these particulars, at the mercy of the Company and the king. In 
furtherance of their democratic sentiments, the bold step was taken, in 
1630, of removing the governing council from England to Massachu- 



KOBERTSON] RELIGIOUS DISSENSIONS. 155 

setts, while the provincial government took every precaution to prevent 
the Church of England from extending its authority over the colony. 

In matters of conscience the colonists manifested from the first an 
autocratic tendency, and the determination that God should be wor- 
shipped in their province in only one way, and that the way of the 
Puritans. That thought could be confined to so narrow a channel 
was, however, impossible, and there began at an early date that strenu- 
ous effort to weed out what was to them heresy which forms an im- 
portant part of the history of New England. To the earliest of these 
troubles, that connected with the name of Koger Williams, the settle- 
ment of the province of Khode Island was due. Similar religious dis- 
sensions had their share in the settlement of the provinces of Connec- 
ticut, Maine, and New Hampshire. We select a description of these 
events from Kobertson's " History of America," a favorite historical 
work of the last century. 

We may premise by saying that Roger Williams was a young Puri- 
tan minister, of fine talents and education, who had been driven out 
of England by the intolerance of Archbishop Laud. On landing in 
Boston he found himself unable to join the church in that place, from 
its opposition to his views respecting religious freedom. He was sub- 
sequently called to the church in Salem, but was prevented from 
officiating through the opposition of Governor Winthrop. Two years 
afterwards he again received a pastoral call to Salem. Here his doc- 
trine gave great offence to the colony, though he was warmly sup- 
ported by the people of Salem.] 

However liberal their system of civil policy might be, 
as their religious opinions were no longer under any re- 
straint of authority, the spirit of fanaticism continued to 
spread, and became every day wilder and more extrava- 
gant. Williams, a minister of Salem, in high estimation, 
having conceived an antipathy to the cross of St. George 
in the standard of England, declaimed against it with so 
much vehemence as a relic of superstition and idolatry 
which ought not to be retained among a people so pure 
and sanctified, that Endicott, one of the members of the 
coui't of assistants, in a transport of zeal, publicly cut out 
the cross from the ensign displayed before the governor's 



156 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Kobertson 

gate. This frivolous matter interested and divided the 
colony. Some of the militia scrupled to follow colors in 
which there was a cross, lest they should do honor to an 
idol ; others refused to serve under a mutilated banner, 
lest they should be suspected of having renounced their 
allegiance to the crown of England. After a long contro- 
versy, carried on by both jDarties with that heat and zeal 
which, in trivial disputes, supply the want of argument, 
the contest was terminated by a compromise. The cross 
was retained in the ensigns of forts and ships, but erased 
from the colors of the militia. Williams, on account of 
this, as well as of some other doctrines deemed unsound, 
was banished out of the colony. 

[Among these obnoxious doctrines were, that it Avas wrong to en- 
force an oath of allegiance to the sovereign, or of obedience to the 
magistrate; that the king had no right to usurp the power of dis- 
posing of the territory of the Indians, and, more particularly, that all 
religious sects had the right to claim equal protection from the laws, 
and that the civil magistrates had no right to restrain the consciences 
of men, or to interfere with their modes of worship or religious beliefs. 
It was decided to send the heretical pastor to England, and he was 
ordered to repair to Boston. As he did not obey this order, a party 
was sent to Salem to arrest him. On reaching there they found that 
Williams had left the settlement, and was making his way through 
the forest wilderness and the cold and hardship of a New England 
winter in search of a locality where he might have the privilege of 
worshipping God in accordance with the dictates of his conscience.] 

The prosperous state of New England was now so 
highly extolled, and the simple frame of its ecclesiastic 
policy was so much admired by all whose affections were 
estranged from the Church of England, that crowds of 
new settlers flocked thither (1635). Among these were 
two persons whose names have been rendered memorable 
by the appearance which they afterwards made on a more 
conspicuous theatre : one was Hugh Peters, the enthusi- 



i 



KoBERTSON] RELIGIOUS DISSENSIONS. 157 

astic and intriguing chaplain of Oliver Cromwell ; the 
othei*, Mr. Henry Vane, son of Sir Henry Vane, a privy 
counsellor, high in office, and of great credit with the 
king: a young man of a noble family, animated with such 
zeal for pure religion and such love of liberty as induced 
him to relinquish all his hopes in England and to settle in 
a colony hitherto no further advanced in improvement 
than barely to afford subsistence to its members, was re- 
ceived with the fondest admiration. His mortified ap- 
pearance, his demure look, and rigid manners, cai'ried 
even beyond the standard of preciseness in that society 
which he joined, seemed to indicate a man of high spirit- 
ual attainments, while his abilities and address in business 
pointed him out as worthy of the highest station in the 
community. With universal consent, and high expecta- 
tions of advantage from his administration, he was elected 
governor in the year subsequent to his arrival (1636). 
But as the affairs of an infant colony afforded not objects 
adequate to the talents of Vane, his busy pragmatical 
spirit occupied itself with theological subtleties and specu- 
lations unworthy of his attention. These were excited 
by a woman, whose reveries produced such effects, both 
within the colony and beyond its precincts, that, frivolous 
as they may now appear, they must be mentioned as an 
occurrence of importance in its history. 

It was the custom at that time in New England among 
the chief men in every congregation to meet once a 
week, in order to repeat the sermons which they had 
heard, and to hold religious conferences with respect to 
the doctrine contained in them. Mrs. Hutchinson, whose 
husband Avas among the most respectable members of the 
colony, regretting that persons of her sex were excluded 
from the benefit of those meetings, assembled statedly in 
her house a number of women, who employed themselves 
I. U 



158 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Kobertson 

in pious exercises similar to those of the men. At first 
she satisfied herself with repeating what she could recol- 
lect of the discourses delivered by their teachers. She 
began afterwards to add illustrations, and at length pro- 
ceeded to censure some of the clergy as unsound, and to 
vent opinions and fancies of her own. These were all 
founded on the system which is denominated Antinomian 
by divines, and tinged with the deepest enthusiasm. She 
taught that sanctity of life is no evidence of justification, 
or of a state of favor with God ; and that such as incul- 
cated the necessity of manifesting the reality of our faith 
by obedience preached only a covenant of works : she 
contended that the spirit of God dwelt personally in good 
men, and by inward revelations and impressions they 
received the fullest discoveries of the divine will. The 
fluency and confidence with which she delivered these 
notions gained her many admirers and prosel3'tes, not 
only among the vulgar, but among the principal inhab- 
itants. The whole colony was interested and agitated. 
Vane, whose sagacity and acuteness seemed to forsake 
him whenever they were turned toward religion, espoused 
and defended her wildest tenets. Many conferences were 
held, days of fasting and humiliation were appointed, a 
general synod was called, and, after dissensions so violent 
as threatened the dissolution of the colony, Mrs. Hutch- 
inson's opinions were condemned as erroneous, and she 
herself banished (1637). Several of her disciples with- 
drew from the province of their own accord. Yane 
quitted America in disgust, unlamented even by those 
who had lately admired him ; some of whom now re- 
garded him as a mere visionary, and others as one of 
those dark turbulent spirits doomed to embroil every 
society into which they enter. 
However much these theological contests might disquiet 



Robertson] RELIGIOUS DISSENSIONS 159 

the colony of Massachusetts Bay, they contributed to the 
more speedy population of America. When Williams was 
banished from Salem, in the year one thousand six hundred 
and thirty-four, such was the attachment of his hearers to 
a pastor whose piety they revered, that a good number 
of them voluntarily accompanied him in his exile. They 
directed their march towards the south ; and having pur- 
chased from the natives a considerable tract of land, to 
which Williams gave the name of Providence, they settled 
there. They were joined soon after by some of those to 
whom the proceedings against Mi-s. Hutchinson gave dis- 
gust ; and by a transaction with the Indians they obtained 
a right to a fertile island in Narragansett Bay, which ac- 
quired the name of Rhode Island. Williams remained 
among them upwards of forty years, respected as the 
father and the guide of the colony which he had planted. 
His spirit differed from that of the Puritans in Massachu- 
setts ; it was mild and tolerating; and, having ventured 
himself to reject established opinions, he endeavored to 
secure the same liberty to other men, by maintaining that 
the exercise of private judgment was a natural and sacred 
right ; that the civil magistrate had no compulsive juris- 
diction in the concerns of religion ; that the punishment 
of any person on account of his opinions was an encroach- 
ment on conscience and an act of persecution. These 
humane principles he instilled into his followers, and all 
who felt or dreaded oppression in other settlements re- 
sorted to a community in which universal toleration was 
known to be a fundamental maxim. In the plantations 
of Providence and Rhode Island, political union was es- 
tablished by voluntary association and the equality of 
condition among the members, as well as their religious 
opinions; their form of government was purely democrat- 
ical, the supreme power being lodged in the freemen per- 



160 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Robertson 

sonally assembled. In this state they remained until they 
were incorporated by charter. 

To similar causes the colon}" of Connecticut is indebted 
for its origin. The rivalship between Mr. Cotton and Mr. 
Hooker, two favorite ministers in the settlement of Mas- 
sachusetts Bay, disposed the latter, who was least success- 
ful in this contest for fame and power, to wish for some 
settlement at a distance from a competitor by whom his 
reputation was eclipsed. A good number of those who 
had imbibed Mrs. Hutchinson's notions, and were offended 
at such as combated them, offered to accompany him. 
Having employed proper persons to explore the country, 
they pitched upon the west side of the great river Con- 
necticut as the most inviting station ; and in the year one 
thousand six hundred and thirty-six, about an hundred 
persons, with their wives and families, after a fatiguing 
march of many days through woods and swamps, arrived 
there, and laid the foundations of the towns of Hartford, 
Springfield, and Wethersfield. 

[As appears in the selection which immediately follows this one, 
previous settlements had been made in the same locality.] 

The history of the fii'st attempts to people the provinces 
of New Hampshire and Main, which form the fourth and 
most extensive division in New England, is obscure and 
perplexed by the interfering claims of vai'ious proprietors. 
The company of Plymouth had inconsiderately parcelled 
out the northern part of the territory contained in its 
grant among different persons ; of these only Sir Ferdi- 
nando Gorges and Captain Mason seem to have had any 
serious intention to occupy the lands allotted to them. 
Their efforts to accomplish this were meritorious and per- 
severing, but unsuccessful. The expense of settling colo- 
nies in an uncultivated country must necessarily be great 



Robertson] RELIGIOUS DISSENSIONS. 161 

and immediate ; the prospect of a return is often uncer- 
tain and always remote. The funds of two private adven- 
turers were not adequate to such an undertaking. Nor 
did the planters whom they sent out possess that principle 
of enthusiasm which animated their neighbors of Massa- 
chusetts with vigor to struggle through all the hardships 
and dangers to which society, in its infancy, is exposed in a 
savage land. Gorges and Mason, it is probable, must have 
abandoned their design if, from the same motives that 
settlements had been made in Ehode Island and Connecti- 
cut, colonists had not unexpectedly migrated into New 
Hampshire and Main. Mr. Wheelwright, a minister of 
some note, nearly related to Mrs. Hutchinson, and one 
of her most fervent admirers and partisans, had, on this 
account, been banished from the province of Massachu- 
setts Bay. In quest of a new station, he took a course 
opposite to the other exiles, and, advancing towards the 
north, founded the town of Exeter, on a small river flow- 
ing into Piskataqua Bay. His followers, few in number, 
but firmly united, were of such rigid principles that even 
the churches of Massachusetts did not appear to them 
sufficiently pure. From time to time they received some 
recruits, whom love of novelt}', or dissatisfaction with the 
ecclesiastical institutions of the other colonies, prompted 
to join them. Their plantations were widelj' dispersed, 
but the country was thinly peopled, and its political state 
extremely unsettled. The colony of Massachusetts Bay 
claimed jurisdiction over them, as occupying lands situ- 
ated within the limits of their grant. Gorges and Mason 
assei'ted the rights conveyed to them as proprietors by 
their charter. In several districts the planters, without 
regarding the pretensions of either party, governed them- 
selves by maxims and laws copied from those of their 
brethi'en in the adjacent colonies. The first reduction of 
i.—l 14* 



162 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hollister 

the political constitution in the provinces of JSTew Hamp- 
shire and Main into a regular and permanent form was 
subsequent to the Eevolution. 



THE PEQUOT WAR. 

G. H. HOLLISTER. 



[The settlement of Connecticut began in 1631, in which year an 
Indian sachem, named Wahquimacut, visited the governors of the 
Massachusetts and Plymouth colonies. He described the country oc- 
cupied by his own and kindred tribes as a rich and beautiful valley, 
abounding in game and com, and traversed by a river called " Con- 
necticut," a noble stream, of surpassing purity of waters, and full 
of excellent fish. He begged each settlement to send Englishmen to 
the valley, offering to give each emigrant eighty beaver-skins annu- 
ally, and to supply them with corn. This anxiety for white settlers 
was probably instigated by the desire to obtain their aid against the 
Pequot Indians, who dominated the region. Governor Winslow, of 
Plymouth, went to see for himself this Indian Paradise. His report 
must have been very favorable, for other explorers followed, and in 
1633 a trading-settlement was made on the Connecticut coast. This 
excited the ire of the Dutch, who had already established themselves 
at Hartford. "Wouter van Twiller, the Dutch governor, proceeded in 
martial array to suppress the intruders, but as the latter stood boldly 
on the defensive he marched back again, concluding that he could 
best show his wisdom by letting them alone. In 1635 several settle- 
ments were made in the new colony, and John Winthrop, the agent 
of Lord Say and Seal and Lord Brook, the proprietors, was sent to 
build a fort at the mouth of the Connecticut, which he did just in 
time to scare back the Dutch, who had sent an expedition for the 
same purpose. 

The succeeding winter was one of excessive severity, and the colo- 
nists and the garrison of the fort at Saybrook sufi'ered terribly. Most 
of them made their way back to Boston, by land or water, to escape 
the danger of starvation. The few that remained barely survived the 



HoLLiSTER] THE PEqUOT WAR. 163 

horrors of the winter. But with the coming of April again upon the 
land many of the fugitives returned, while others followed them, and 
the colony rapidly augmented. It was not long, however, before 
trouble with the Indians began. The most important of the Connec- 
ticut Indians were the Pequots and the Mohegans, the former under a 
head sachem named Sassacus, who was bitterly ht)stile to the whites, 
the latter under the celebrated Uncas, who allied himself with the 
settlers. The Narragansetts and other tribes, from their hostility to 
the warlike Pequots, favored the English, through whom they hoped 
to be revenged upon their dreaded foes. 

A series of murders by Indians followed the settling of the colony. 
In 1634 two traders were slaughtered. The next year other murders 
took place. In reprisal an expedition from Massachusetts attacked 
the Indians, much to the dissatisfaction of the Connecticut settlers, 
who feared they would pay bitterly for this assault. Their prevision 
was correct. The Pequots lurked about the fort, torturing all who fell 
into their hands. They similarly waylaid the settlers, killing and de- 
stroying, until the situation grew unbearable. War was resolved upon, 
and on the 10th of May, 1637, an army of ninety Englishmen, under 
John Mason, and seventy Mohegans, under Uncas, embarked at Hart- 
ford for the Pequot strongholds. Fort Mistick, the smaller of the twt> 
Pequot forts, was approached at night, with the intention of efiecting 
a surprise. The story of this Indian war we select from G. H. HoUis- 
ter's "History of Connecticut," in which it is detailed in homely but 
graphic language.] 

About two hours before day, the men were roused up 
and commanded to make themselves ready for battle. 
The moon still shone in their faces as they were sum- 
moned to prayer. They now set forward with alacrity. 
The fort proved to be about two miles off. A long way it 
seemed over the level though stony ground, and the offi- 
cers began at last to fear that they had been led upon the 
wrong track, when they came at length to a second field 
of corn, newly planted, at the base of a high hill. Here 
they halted, and " gave the word for some of the Indians 
to come up." At first not an Indian was to be seen ; but 
finally Uncas and Wequash the guide showed themselves. 



164 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hollister 

" "Where is the fort ?" demanded Mason. " On the top of 
that hill," was the answer. " Where are the rest of the 
Indians ?" asked the fearless soldier. The answer was, 
what he probably anticipated, " Behind, and very much 
afraid." " Tell them," said Mason, " not to fly, but to 
stand as far ofi" as they please, and see whether English- 
men will fight." 

There were two entrances to the fort, one on the north- 
eastern side, the other on the west. It was decided that 
Mason should lead on and force open the former, while 
Underbill, who brought up the rear, was to pass around 
and go in at the western gate. 

Mason had approached within^about a rod of the fort, 
when he heard a dog bark, and almost in a breath this 
alarm was followed up by the voice of an Indian, crying, 
"Owanux! Owanux!" — Englishmen! Englishmen! No 
time was to be lost. He called up his forces with all haste 
and fired upon the enemy through the palisades. The 
Pequots, who had spent the night in singing and dancing 
(under the beHef that the English had retreated), were 
now in a deep sleep. The entrance, near which Mason 
stood, was blocked up with bushes about breast high. 
Over this frail obstruction he leaped, sword in hand, 
shouting to his men to follow him. But Scely, his lieu- 
tenant, found it more easy to remove the bushes than to 
force the men over them. When he had done so, he also 
entered, followed by sixteen soldiers. It had been deter- 
mined to destroy the enemy with the sword, and thus 
save the corn and other valuables that were stored in the 
wigwams. With this view the captain, seeing no Indians, 
entered one of the wigwams. Here he found many war- 
riors, who crowded hard upon him, and beset him with 
great violence ; but they were so amazed at the strange 
apparition that had so suddenly thrust itself upon them, 



Hollister] the PEQUOT WAR. 165 

that they could make but a feeble resistance. Mason was 
soon joined by William Hayden, who, as he entered the 
wigwam through the breach that had been made by his 
impetuous captain, stumbled against the dead body of a 
Pequot, whom Mason had slain, and fell. Some of the 
Indians now fled from the wigwam ; others, still stupefied 
with sleep, crept under mats and skins to hide them- 
selves. 

The palisades embraced an area of about twenty acres, — 
a space sufficient to afford room for a large Indian village. 
There were more than seventy houses in this space, with 
lanes or streets passing between them. Mason, still intent 
on destroying the Pequots and at the same time saving 
their property, now left the wigwam, and passed down 
one of these streets, driving the crowd of Indians that 
thronged it before him from one end of it to the othgr. 
At the lower extremity of this lane stood a little company 
of Englishmen, who, having effected an entrance from the 
west, met the Indians as they fled from Mason, and killed 
about half a dozen of them. The captain now faced about, 
and went back the whole length of the lane, to the spot 
where he had entered the fort. He was exhausted, and 
quite out of breath, and had become satisfied that this was 
not the way to exterminate the Indians, who now swarmed 
from the wigwams like bees from a hive. Two of his 
soldiers stood near him, close to the palisades, with their 
useless swords pointed to the ground. " We shall never 
kill them in this way," said the captain ; and then added, 
with the same laconic brevity, ^'We must burn them!'' 
With these words the decree of the council of war to save 
the booty of the enemy was annulled ; for, stepping into 
the wigwam where he had before forced an entrance, he 
snatched a firebrand in his hand, and, instantly returning, 
applied it to the light mats that formed the covering of 



166 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hollister 

their rude tenements. Almost in an instant the whole 
village was wrapped in flaines, and the frightened Pequots 
fled in dismay from the roofs that had just before sheltered 
them. Such was their terror that many of them took 
refuge from the English in the flames, and perished there. 
Some climbed the palisades, where they formed but too 
fair a mark for the muskets of their enemies, who could 
3ee to take a dead aim in the light of the ghastly con- 
flagration. Others fled from the beds of mats or skins 
where they had sought a temporary concealment, and were 
arrested by the hand of death in the midst of their flight. 
Others still, warping up to the windward, whence the fire 
si:)ed with such fatal velocity, fell flat upon the ground and 
plied their destroyers with arrows. But their hands were 
so palsied with fear that the feathered messengers either 
fl§w wide of their aim or fell with spent force upon the 
ground. A few, of still stouter heart, rushed forth with 
the tomahawk, to engage the invaders of their homes in 
a hand-to-hand combat. But they were nearly all, to the 
number of about forty, cut in pieces by the sword. The 
vast volume of flame, the lurid light reflected on the dark 
background of the horizon, the crack of the muskets, the 
3^ells of the Indians who fought, and of those who sought 
vainly to fly, the wail of women and children as they 
writhed in the flames, and the exulting cries of the Narra- 
gansetts and Mohegans without the fort, formed a contrast, 
awful and sublime, with the quiet glories of the peaceful 
May morning, that was just then breaking over the woods 
and the ocean. 

Seventy wigwams were burned to ashes, and proba- 
bly not less than five hundred men, women, and children 
were destroyed. The property, too, shared the same fate. 
The long-cherished wampum-belt, with the beads of blue, 
purple, and white, the war-club, the eagle plume, the 



floLLiSTER] THE PEQUOT WAR. 167 

tufted scalps, trophies of many a victory, helped only to 
swell the blaze that consumed alike the young warrior 
and the superannuated counsellor, the squaw and the little 
child that clung helplessly to her bosom. Of all who 
were in the fort, only seven were taken captive, and 
about the same number escaped. 

[The English, however, were in no enviable situation. Two of 
them had been killed, and about twenty wounded. They were with- 
out provisions, in the midst of an unfamiliar country, and within a 
short distance of the fort of Sassacus, tenanted by hundreds of fierce 
warriors. Fortunately, the vessels were now seen, gliding into the 
Pequot harbor.] 

By this time the news of the destruction that had 
fallen upon his tribe at Mistick, heralded, no doubt, not 
only by the handful of men who had escaped from the 
fort, and by the clouds of smoke that floated from the 
fatal scone, but by the dismal cries that attended this 
exterminating sacrifice, had reached the fort of Sassacus, 
and three hundred warriors came rushing towards the 
English with the determination to revenge themselves for 
an injury not yet half revealed to them. Mason led out a 
file of his best marksmen, who soon gave the Pequots a 
check. Seeing that the}" could not stand his fire, he com- 
menced his march towards Pequot harbor. Of the twent}' 
wounded men, four or five were so disabled that it was 
necessary' to employ about twenty other men to carry 
them ; so that he had but about forty men who could 
engage in battle, until he succeeded in hiring some In- 
dians to take charge of the wounded. They had marched 
about a quarter of a mile, when the Pequot warriors, 
who had withdrawn out of the range of their muskets, 
reached the spot whei-e, not two hours before, their fort 
had sheltered so much that was sacred to them. "When 



168 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hollister 

they came to the top of the hill, venerable to them from 
80 many associations connected with the history and glory 
of their tribe, — when they saw the smoking palisades, the 
flames of their wigwams, not yet extinguished, the black- 
ened bodies that lay scattered where death had overtaken 
them, — in their grief and rage they stamped upon the 
ground, tore the hair from their heads, and then rushed 
madly down the hill, as if they would have swept the 
enemy from the face of the earth. Captain Underbill, 
with a tile of the bravest men, was ordered to defend the 
rear. This he did with such efficiency that the Indians 
were soon compelled to fall back. Yet such was their re- 
solve to have their revenge upon the English that during 
their march for the next six miles they pursued them, 
sometimes hanging upon their rear, sometimes hidden 
behind trees and rocks in front, discharging their arrows 
in secret, at others making desperate attacks, that could 
be repelled only by the too deadly use of the musket. 
They fought at fearful odds, as was evinced by the dead 
bodies of their warriors picked up by the Mohegans 
who followed in their train, while not an Englishman was 
injured during the whole line of their march. At last, 
wearied with a pursuit that only brought harm to them- 
selves, they abandoned it, and left the English to con- 
tinue their march unmolested, with their colors flj^ing, to 
Pequot harbor. Here they were received on board their 
vessels with many demonstrations of joy. 

[This disaster utterly disheartened the Pequots. They accused Sas- 
sacus of having brought ruin upon them, and in dismay burned their 
remaining fort and fled for safety. Sassacus and about eighty of his 
principal warriors made their way towards the Hudson. They were 
rapidly followed, and at length traced to a swamp within the limits 
of the old town of Fairfield.] 

In this swamp were hidden about eighty Pequot war- 



HollisterJ the PEQUOT WAR. 169 

riors, with their women and children, and about two hun- 
dred other Indians. A dismal, miry bog it was, covered 
with tangled bushes. Dangerous as it was, Lieutenant 
Davenport rushed into it with his men, eager to en- 
counter the Pequots. 

The sharp arrows of the enemy flew from places that 
hid the archers, wounding the soldiers, who, in their haste 
to retreat, only sunk deeper in the mire. The Indians, 
made bold by this adventure, pressed hard upon them, and 
would have carried off their scalps had it not been for the 
timely aid of some other Englishmen, who waded into the 
swamp, sword in hand, drove back the Pequots, and drew 
their disabled friends from the mud that had threatened 
to swallow them up. The swamp was now surrounded, 
and a skirmish followed that proved so destructive to 
the savages that the Fairfield Indians begged for quarter. 
They said, what was probably true, that they were there 
only by accident, and had never done the English any 
harm. 

[They were permitted to withdraw, with their women and children.] 

But the Pequot warriors, made up of choice men, and 
burning with rage against the enemy who had destroyed 
their tribe and driven them ft-om their old haunts, fought 
with such desperate bravery that the English were glad 
to confine themselves to the borders of the swamp. . . . 

Some suggested that they should cut down the swamp 
with the hatchets that they had brought with them; 
others, that they should surround it with palisades. 
Neither of these propositions was adopted. They finally 
hit upon a plan that was more easily executed. They 
cut down the bushes that grew upon a little neck of firm 
upland that almost divided the swamp into two parts. 
In this way they so lessened the area occupied by the 

I.— H 15 



170 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Hollister 

Pequots that, by stationing men twelve feet apart, it could 
all be surrounded by the ti'00j)s. This was done, and the 
sentinels all stationed, before nightfall. Thus keeping 
watch on the boi'ders of the morass, wet, cold, and weary, 
the soldiers passed the night under arms. Just before 
day a dense fog arose, that shrouded them in almost total 
darkness. A friendly mist it proved to the Pequots, for 
it doubtless saved the lives of many of them. At a favor- 
able moment they rushed upon the English. Captain 
Patrick's quarters were first attacked, but he drove them 
back more than once. Their yells, more terrible from the 
darkness that engulfed the scene of the conflict, were so 
unearthly and appalling, the attack was so sudden and 
so well sustained, that, but for the timely interference ot 
a party sent by Mason to relieve him, Patrick would 
doubtless hav^e been driven from his station or cut to 
pieces. The siege had by this time given place to a 
hand-to-hand fight. As Mason Avas himself marching up 
to aid Patrick, the Pequots rushed upon him from the 
thicket. He drove them back with severe loss. They 
did not resume the attack upon the man who had recently 
given them such fearful proofs of his prowess, but turned 
upon Patrick, broke through his ranks, and fled. About 
sixty of the Pequot warriors escaped. Twenty lay dead 
upon the field. One hundred and eighty were taken pris- 
oners. Most of the property that this fugitive remnant 
of the tribe had attemjited to carry with them fell into 
the hands of the English. Hatchets of stone, beautiful 
wampum-belts, polished bows, and feathered arrows, with 
the utensils employed by the women in their rude do- 
mestic labors, became at once, as did the women them- 
selves, the property of the conquerors. The captives and 
the booty were divided between Massachusetts and Con- 
necticut. Some were sent by Massachusetts to the West 



Hollister] the PEQUOT WAR. 171 

Indies, and there, as slaves, dragged out a wretched but 
brief existence. . . . Those who fell to the colony of Con- 
necticut found their condition more tolerable. Some of 
them, it is true, spent their days in servitude ; yet its 
rigors softened as the horrors of the war faded from the 
recollections of the English. 

Sassacus seems not to have been pi'esent at this battle. 
Foiled and discomfited at every turn, he fled far to the 
westward, and sought a refuge among the enemies of his 
tribe, the Mohawks. But he looked in vain for protection 
at their hands. He had defied them in his prosperity, 
and in his evil days they avenged themselves. They be- 
headed him, and sent his scalp as a trophy to Connecticut. 
A lock of his black, glossy hair was carried to Boston in 
the fall of the same year, as a witness that the proud 
sachem of the Pequots was no more. 

[So ended the first Indian war in New England. About two hun- 
dred of the vanquished tribe still survived. These were divided be- 
tween the Mohegans and Narragansetts, and the tribal organization 
completely brol^en up. The bow and arrow and stone axe had been 
tried against the sword and musket, and had signally failed. In the 
future wars, of muslcet against muslcet, the suppression of the Indians 
was not to prove so easy a task. It may be said here that this was 
one of the most justifiable wars ever waged by the settlers against the 
Indians. The murderous incursions of the Pequots upon the peaceful 
settlers had become so unbearable that annihilation of one side or the 
other seemed the only solution of the problem.] 



172 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman 

CHAMPLAIN AND THE IROQUOIS. 

FRANCIS PARKMAN. 

[The first permanent French settlement in America, as we have al- 
ready stated, was made by De Monts in 1605, on the coast of the Bay 
of Fundy, the settlement being named Port Koyal, and the country 
Acadia. In 1608, De Monts was granted a monopoly of the fur-trade 
on the St. Lawrence Eiver, and sent out two vessels under Samuel 
Champlain, who had previously visited that region. Champlain as- 
cended the river to the site of the present city of Quebec, near the 
place where Cartier had wintered in 1541. The colony he there estab- 
lished was the first permanent French settlement in Canada. The 
history of this colony under Champlain's management, of the explo- 
rations which he made, and of his hostile relations with the Iroquois 
Indians, is one of the greatest interest, and reads like a page from 
romance rather than the detail of sober history. 

Champlain was one of the most active and earnest explorers the 
world has ever known. " A true hero, after the chivalrous medi- 
a?val type, his character was dashed largely with the spirit of romance. 
Earnest, sagacious, penetrating, he yet leaned to the marvellous ; and 
the faith which was the life of his hard career was somewhat prone 
to overstep the bounds of reason and invade the alluring domain 
of fancy." In early life he had been seized with a desire to explore 
those golden realms from which the Spaniards sedulously excluded the 
people of other European nations. He entered the Spanish service, 
and made his way to the West Indies and Mexico. He afterwards 
took part in the Port Royal expedition of De Monts, and explored the 
New England coast. His enterprising spirit, while of the utmost im- 
portance to the success of the Canadian colony, brought the colonists 
into hostile relations with the powerful Iroquois confederacy of In- 
dians, and started a bitter and unrelenting war through which the 
settlement was more than once threatened with annihilation. 

The colony of Canada had no thought of agriculture. It was dis- 
tinctively a trading-settlement, a condition conducive to adventurous 
excursions, in which movements Champlain was the leading spirit. 
It, unlike all other American colonies, entered at once into an alliance, 
offensive and defensive, with the neighboring Indian tribes, aided 



Parkman] CHAMPLAIN AND THE IROQUOIS. 173 

them in their wars, and roused the undying enmity of powerful foes. 
A description of the settlement of Quebec, of Champlain's first excur- 
sion with the Indians, of the discovery of the lake which bears his 
name, and of his first encounter with the Iroquois, may be taken 
from Parkman's " Pioneers of Prance in the New "World."] 

And now, peace being established with the Basques, 
and the wounded Pontgrave busied, as far as might be, in 
transferring to the hold of his ship the rich lading of the 
Indian canoes, Champlain spread his sails, and once more 
held his course up the St. Lawrence. . . . 

Above the point of the Island of Orleans, a constriction 
of the vast channel narrows it to a mile : on one hand 
the green heights of Point Levi ; on the other, the cliffs 
of Quebec. Here a small stream, the St. Charles, enters 
the St. Lawrence, and in the angle between them rises the 
promontory, on two sides a natural fortress. Land among 
the walnut-trees that formed a belt between the cliffs and 
the St. Lawrence. Climb the steep height, now bearing 
aloft its ponderous load of churches, convents, dwellings, 
ramparts, and batteries, — there was an accessible point, 
a rough passage, gullied downward where Prescott Gate 
now opens on the Lower Town. . . . Two centuries and a 
half have quickened the solitude with swarming life, cov- 
ered the deep bosom of the river with barge and steamer 
and gliding sail, and reared cities and villages on the site 
of forests ; but nothing can destroy the surpassing gran- 
deur of the scene. . . . 

A few weeks passed, and a pile of wooden buildings 
rose on the brink of the St. Lawrence, on or near the 
site of the market-place of the Lower Town of Quebec. 
The pencil of Champlain. always regardless of proportion 
and perspective, has preserved its semblance. A strong 
wooden wall, surmounted by a gallery loop-holed for 
musketry, enclosed three buildings, containing quarters 
I. 15* 



174 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman 

for himself and his men, together with a court-yard, from 
one side of which rose a tall dove-cot, like a belfry. A 
moat surrounded the whole, and two or three small can- 
non were planted on salient platforms towards the river. 
There was a large magazine near at hand, and a part of 
the adjacent ground was laid out as a garden. . . . 

It was on the eighteenth of September that Pont- 
grave set sail, leaving Champlain with twenty-eight men to 
hold Quebec through the winter. Three weeks later, and 
shores and hills glowed with gay prognostics of approach- 
ing desolation, — the yellow aud scarlet of the maples, the 
deep purple of the ash, the garnet hue of young oaks, the 
bonfire blaze of the tupelo at the water's edge, and the 
golden plumage of birch saplings in the fissure of the cliff. 
It was a short-lived beauty. The forest dropped its festal 
robes. Shrivelled and faded, they rustled to the earth. 
The crystal air and laughing sun of October passed away, 
and November sank upon the shivering waste, chill and 
sombre as the tomb. . . . 

One would gladly know how the founders of Quebec 
spent the long hours of their first winter; but on this 
point the only man among them, perhaps, who could 
write, has not thought it necessary to enlarge. He him- 
self beguiled his leisure with trapping foxes, or hanging 
a dead dog from a tree and watching the hungry martens 
in their efforts to reach it. Towards the close of winter, 
all found abundant employment in nursing themselves or 
their neighbors, for the inevitable scurvy broke out with 
virulence. At the middle of May only eight men of the 
twenty-eight were alive, and of these half were suffering 
from disease. . . . Great was the joy of Champlain when 
he saw a sail-boat rounding the Point of Orleans, betoken- 
ing that the spring had brought with it the longed-for 
succors. 



Parkman] CHAMPLAIN AND THE IROQUOIS. 175 

[Poiitgrave had returned with supplies and emigrants. After a con- 
sultation it was decided that he should remain in charge of Quebec 
while Champlain entered upon his meditated explorations, by which 
he hoped to find a practicable way to China. It was the same dream 
of a passage to the Pacific that had animated so many of his prede- 
cessors.] 

But there was a lion in the path. The Indian tribes, 
war-hawks of the wilderness, to whom peace was unknown, 
infested with their scalping-parties the streams and path- 
ways of the forest, increasing tenfold its inseparable risks. 
That to all these hazards Champlain was more than indif- 
ferent, his after-career bears abundant witness ; yet now 
an expedient for evading them offered itself, so consistent 
with his instincts that he was fain to accept it. Might he 
not anticipate surprises, join a war-party, and fight his way 
to discovery ? 

During the last autumn a young chief from the banks of 
the then unknown Ottawa had been at Quebec ; and, amazed 
at what he saw, he had begged Champlain to join him in 
the spring against his enemies. These enemies were a for- 
midable race of savages, the Iroquois, or Five Confederate 
Nations, dwelling in fortified villages within limits now 
embraced by the State of New York. 

[The Canadian foes of this confederacy were the Hurons, a tribe ot 
their own race, the Algonquins of the St. Lawrence region, and the 
Montagnais, a less energetic tribe of the same region. With these 
Indians Champlain joined himself in a projected expedition against 
their powerful enemies.] 

It was past the middle of May, and the expected war- 
riors from the upper country had not come, — a delay Avhich 
seems to have given Champlain little concern, for, without 
waiting longer, he set forth with no better allies than a 
band of Montagnais. But as he moved up the St. Law- 
rence he saw, thickly clustered in the bordering forest, the 



176 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman 

lodges of an Indian camp, and, landing, found his Hui'on 
and Algonquin allies. Few of them had ever seen a white 
man. They surrounded the steel-clad strangers in speech- 
less wonderment. Champlain asked for their chief, and 
the staring throng moved with him towards a lodge where 
sat, not one chief, but two, for each band had its own. 
There were feasting, smoking, speeches ; and, the needful 
ceremony over, all descended together to Quebec ; for the 
strangers were bent on seeing those wonders of architect- 
ure whose fame had pierced the recesses of their forests. 

[On May 28 the expedition again set out, passing down the St. Law- 
rence to the " Eiviere des Iroquois," since called the Richelieu, or the 
St. John. Here the warriors encamped for two days, hunted, fished, 
feasted, and quarrelled, three-fourths of the party seceding, while the 
rest pursued their course. Champlain outsailed his allies. But he 
soon found himself in impassable rapids, and was obliged to return. 
The Indians had lied to him, with the story that his shallop could 
traverse the river unobstructed.] 

But should he abandon the adventure, and forego the 
discovery of that great lake, studded with islands and bor- 
dered with a fertile land of forests, which his red compan- 
ions had traced in outline and by word and sign had painted 
to his fancy? . . . He directed Marais, with the boat and 
the greater part of the men, to return to Quebec, while 
he, with two who offered to follow him, should proceed in 
the Indian canoes. 

The warriors lifted their canoes from the water, and in 
long procession through the forest, under the flickering 
sun and shade, bore them on their shoulders ai-ound the 
rapids to the smooth stream above. Here the chiefs made 
a muster of their forces, counting twenty-four canoes and 
sixty warriors. All embarked again, and advanced once 
more, by marsh, meadow, forest, and scattered islands, 
then full of game, for it was an uninhabited land, the war- 



Parkman] CHAMPLAIN AND THE IROQUOIS. 177 

path and battle-ground of hostile tribes. The warrioi's 
observed a certain system in their advance. Some were 
in front as a vanguard, others formed the main body, 
while an equal number were in the forests on the flanks 
and rear, hunting for the subsistence of the whole ; for, 
though they had a provision of parched maize pounded 
into meal, they kept it for use when, from the vicinity of 
the enemy, hunting should become impossible. 

Late in the day they landed and drew itp their canoes, 
ranging them closely side by side. All was life and bustle. 
Some stripped sheets of bark, to cover their camp-sheds; 
others gathered wood, — the forest was full of dead, dry 
trees ; others felled the living trees, for a barricade. They 
seem to have had steel axes, obtained by barter from the 
French ; for in less than two hours they had made a strong 
defensive work, a half-circle in form, open on the river side, 
where their canoes lay on the strand, and large enough to 
enclose all their huts and sheds. Some of their number 
had gone forward as scouts, and, returning, reported no 
signs of an enemy. This was the extent of their precau- 
tions, for they placed no guard, but all, in full security, 
stretched themselves to sleep, — a vicious custom from which 
the lazy warrior of the forest rarely departs. 

[An important part of the subsequent proceedings was the operation 
of the medicine-man, who entered his magic lodge and invoked the 
spirits in mumbling tones, while his dusky audience listened in awe 
and wonder. Suddenly the lodge rocked with violence to and, fro, — as 
alleged, by the power of the spirits, though Champlain could see the 
fist of the medicine-man shaking the poles. The diviner was now 
seized with convulsions, and invoked the spirit in an unknown lan- 
guage, while the answer came in squeaking and feeble accents. This 
mummery over, the chief stuck sticks in the earth in a certain order, 
each stick representing a warrior and indicating his position in the 
expected battle. They all gathered round and studied the sticks, then 
formed, broke, and reformed their ranks with alacrity and skill.] 
I. — m 



178 AMERTCAN HISTORY. [Parkman 

Again the canoes advanced, the river widening as they 
went. Great islands appeared, leagues in extent, — Isle a 
la Motte, Long Island, Grande Isle. Channels where ships 
might float and broad reaches of expanding water stretched 
between them, and Champlain entered the lake which pre- 
serves his name to posterity. Cumberland Head was 
passed, and from the opening of the great channel betAveen 
Grande Isle and the main he could look forth on the wil- 
derness sea. Edged with woods, the tranquil flood spread 
southward beyond the sight. Far on the left the forest 
ridges of the Green Mountains were heaved against the 
sun, patches of snow still glistening on their tops; and on 
the right rose the Adirondacks, haunts in these later years 
of amateur sportsmen from counting-rooms or college halls, 
nay, of adventurous beauty, with sketch-book and pencil. 
Then the Iroquois made them their hunting-ground ; and 
beyond, in the valleys of the Mohawk, the Onondaga, and 
the Genesee, stretched the long line of their five cantons 
and palisaded towns. . . . 

The progress of the party was becoming dangerous. 
They changed their mode of advance, and moved only in 
the night. ... At twilight tbey embarked again, paddling 
their cautious way till the eastern sky began to redden. 
Their goal was the rocky promontory where Fort Ticon- 
deroga was long afterward built. Thence they would 
pass the outlet of Lake George, and launch their canoes 
again on that Como of the wilderness. . . . Landing at 
the future site of Fort William Henry, they would carry 
their canoes through the forest to the river Hudson, and, 
descending it, attack, perhaps, some outlying town of the 
Mohawks. . . . 

The allies were spai'ed so long a progress. On the morn- 
ing of the twenty-ninth of July, after paddling all night, 
they hid as usual in the forest on the western shore, not 



Parkman] CHAMPLAIN AND THE IROQUOIS. 179 

far from Crown Point. The warriors stretched themselves 
to their slumbers, and Champlain, after walking for a time 
through the surrounding woods, returned to take his repose 
on a pile of spruce boughs. . . . 

It was ten o'clock in the evening, when they descried 
dark objects in motion on the lake before them. These 
were a flotilla of Iroquois canoes, heavier and slower than 
theirs, for they were made of oak bark (or more probably 
elm bark). Each party saw the other, and the mingled 
war-cries pealed over the darkened water. The Iroquois, 
who were near the shore, having no stomach for an aquatic 
battle, landed, and, making night hideous with their clam- 
ors, began to barricade themselves. Champlain could sec 
them in the woods laboring like beavers, hacking down 
trees with iron axes taken from the Canadian tribes in 
war, and with stone hatchets of their own making. The 
allies remained on the lake, a bowshot from the hostile 
barricade, their canoes made fast together by poles lashed 
across. All night they danced with as much vigor as the 
frailty of their vessels would permit, their throats making 
amends for the enforced restraint of their limbs. It was 
agreed on both sides that the fight should be deferred till 
daybreak ; but meanwhile a commerce of abuse, sarcasm, 
menace, and boasting gave unceasing exercise to the lungs 
and fancy of the combatants, — " much," says Champlain, 
" like the besiegers and besieged in a beleaguered town." 

As day approached, he and his two followers put on the 
light armor of the time. Champlain wore the doublet and 
long hose then in vogue. Over the doublet he buckled on 
a breastplate, and probably a back-piece, while his thighs 
wei*e protected by cuisses of steel, and his head by a plumed 
casque. Across his shoulder lay the straps of his bandoleer, 
or ammunition-box ; at his side was his sword, and in his 
hand his arquebuse, which he had loaded with four balls. 



180 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman 

Such was the equipment of this ancient Indian -fighter, 
whose exploits date eleven years before the landing of the 
Puritans at Plymouth, and sixty-six years before King 
Philip's War. 

Each of the three Frenchmen was in a separate canoe, 
and, as it grew light, they kept themselves hidden, either 
by lying in the bottom, or covering themselves with an 
Indian robe. The canoes approached the shore, and all 
landed without opposition at some distance from the Iro- 
quois, whom they presently could see filing out of their 
barricade, tall, strong men, some two hundred in nnmbei, 
of the boldest and fiercest warriors of North America. 
They advanced through the forest with a steadiness which 
excited the admiration of Champlain. Among them could 
be seen several chiefs, made conspicuous by their tall 
plumes. Some bore shields of wood and hide, and some 
were covered with a kind of armor made of tough twigs 
interlaced with a vegetable fibre supposed by Champlain to 
be cotton. 

The allies, growing anxious, called with loud cries for 
their champion, and opened their ranks that he might pass 
to the front. He did so, and, advancing before his red 
companions-in-arms, stood" revealed to the astonished gaze 
of the Iroquois, who, beholding the warlike apparition in 
their path, stared in mute amazement. But his arquebuse 
was levelled; the report startled the woods, a chief fell 
dead, and another by his side rolled among the bushes. 
Then there rose from the allies a yell, which, saj'S Cham- 
plain, would have drowned a thunder-clap, and the forest 
was full of whizzing arrows. For a moment, the Iroquois 
stood firm and sent back their arrows lustily ; but when 
another and another gunshot came from the thickets on 
their flank, they broke and fled in uncontrollable terror 
Swifter than hounds, the allies tore through the bushes 



Parkman] CHAMPLAIN AND THE JROqUOIS. 181 

in pursuit. Some of the Iroquois were killed ; more were 
taken. Camp, canoes, provisions, all were abandoned, and 
many weapons flung down in the panic flight. The arque- 
buse had done its work. The victory was complete. . . . 

The victors made a prompt retreat from the scene of 
their triumph. Three or four days brought them to the 
mouth of the Eichelieu. Here they separated; the Hurons 
and the Algonquins made for the Ottawa, their homeward 
route, each with a share of prisoners for future torments. 
At jDarting they invited Champlain to visit their towns 
and aid them again in their wars, — an invitation which 
this paladin of the woods failed not to accept. 

[Thus ended the first Indian battle in the northern United States, 
the fruitful seed of an abundant crop of future disasters. The subse- 
quent history of Champlain may be rapidly epitomized. In the next 
year (1610) he took part in another successful war-expedition. In 
1611 he founded the city of Montreal. The year 1613 he employed 
in an exploration of the Ottawa River, deceived by a statement that 
it led to a great lake which was connected with the North Sea. In 
1614 he made another long journey, up the Ottawa, then overland to 
Lake Huron, and then south, in company with a war-party of Hurons, 
to the Iroquois country, where an attack was made on a strong fortifi- 
cation. The assault proved a failure. The Iroquois defended them- 
selves valiantly, and finally drove oflF their foes, Champlain being twice 
wounded. In 1629, twenty years after the settlement of Quebec, it 
contained less than a hundred persons, and these the prey of a severe 
famine, from whose consequences they were saved only by a surrender 
of the place to the English, then at war with France. At the end of 
the war it was restored to France. The history of Canada during the 
remainder of the century is largely made up of the revenge taken by 
the Iroquois for their earlier disasters. Their dreaded foe, Champlain, 
died in 1635. He had aided in making a treaty of peace between the 
Hurons and the Iroquois in 1622, but in 1648 the latter broke the truce, 
and suddenly fell upon the French and their allies, slaughtering the 
whites without distinction of sex or age, and causing a complete dis- 
persal of the Hurons, who ceased to exist as a separate tribe. For 
years afterwards the Iroquois remained lords of the situation, keeping 
I. 16 



182 AMERICAN HISTORY. [O'Callaghan 

the French shut up in their fortified posts, while their allies were left 
without succor. The Algonquins were dispersed, the Eries obliterated, 
and the war ended in 1672, after more than twenty years' duration, 
in the conquest of the Andastes, a powerful Huron tribe. In 1687 the 
war was renewed, through a treacherous act of Denonville, the Cana- 
dian governor, and in the succeeding year the Iroquois made a descent 
on the Island of Montreal, which they laid waste, and carried otf two 
hundred prisoners. This brings us to the era of war between the 
French and the English, in which the services of the Indians were freely 
called into requisition, and desolating raids and massacres abounded.] 



I 



THE SETTLEMENT OF NEW YORK. 

E. B. O'CALLAGHAN. 

[The Dutch showed less enterprise in planting colonies in America, 
and less persistence in sustaining them, than any other of the maritime 
nations of Europe. Their only settlement in North America was that 
of New Amsterdam, occupying Manhattan Island, and sending branch 
hamlets up the Hudson and to the shores of Long Island Sound and 
the South or Delaware Eiver. This colony was held with very little 
vigor. The Dutch permitted themselves to be supplanted in Con- 
necticut by the English Puritans, with scarcely any resistance. The 
Swedes came into collision with them oa the Delaware, though these 
intruders were eventually subjected to Dutch authority. And in their 
central seat on the Hudson they had to contend with unwarranted 
English invasions, and were finally conquered by the English, in times 
of peace, and without resistance either by the colony or by the mother- 
country. The story of this colony is of less interest than that of most 
of the other American settlements. It had its contests, its intestine 
difiiculties, its troubles with the Indians, yet none of these were 
of striking importance. We extract from O'Callaghan's " History of 
New Netherland" some passages descriptive of the rise and progress 
of the settlement. Henry Hudson, the discoverer of the river that 
bears his name, was an English mariner, who, in the yeai-s 1G07 and 



UCallaqhan] the settlement OF NEW YORK. 183 

1608, made two voj-ages in search of a northwest passage to India. 
He afterwards entered the service of the Dutch East India Company, 
and in April, 1609, sailed on a third voyage with the same purpose. 
Touching at Newfoundland, he continued his course till he sighted 
the American coast, and then turned southward, with the hope of 
finding a passage-way to the Pacific through the continent. He 
entered Penobscot Bay, and landed at Cape Cod, which he named 
New Holland.] 

The Half Moon hence pursued a course south and west 
for the next ten days, and at length arrived, about the 
middle of August, at the entrance of the Chesapeake Bay, 
where the first effectual attempt to plant an English col- 
ony had been commenced only two years before. Hudson 
now retraced his steps, and in a few days afterwards dis- 
covered, in latitude thirtj'-nine degrees five minutes, a 
great bay, which has since been called Delaware. Here 
he anchored the Half Moon in eight fathom water, and 
took possession, it is said, of the country. From this 
place he coasted northward, the shore appearing low, like 
sunken ground, dotted with islands, and at length descried 
the Highlands of Navesinck, which, the journalist re- 
marks, is a very good land to fall in with, and a pleasant 
land to see. He found himself, on the following day, at 
the mouth of three great rivers, the noi'thernmost of 
which he attempted to enter; but, having been prevented 
by a shoal bar at its mouth, he cast about to the south- 
ward, and, after due examination of the sounding, rounded 
a low " sandy hook," and moored the Half Moon, on the 
following morning, in latitude forty degrees thirty min- 
utes, at a short distance from the shore, in the waters of 
" The Great North Eiver of New Netherlaud." 

While the ship lay here at anchor, the natives from the 
western shore came on board, and seemed to be highly 
pleased at the arrival of the Europeans. They brought 



184 AMERICAN HISTORY. [O'Callaghan 

green tobacco, which they desired to exchange for knives 
and beads. They had divers ornaments, as well as pipes, 
made of copper; plenty of maize, or Indian corn ; dresses 
of deerskins, well cured, hung loosely around them. 

The next day some men were sent in the boat to explore 
the bay farther up. They landed on the western bank, 
which was lined with men, women, and children, by 
whom they were very kindly received, and ])resented 
with tobacco and dried currants. They found the land 
covered with dried oaks. The natives continued to flock 
on board the ship, dressed in mantles of feathers and fine 
furs ; their necks adorned with ornaments of copper, and 
some of the women had hemp. 

[Five of the crew were sent to examine the channel of what appeared 
to be an extensive river. " They described the land as covered with 
trees, grass, and flowers, and the air filled with delightful fragrance." 
On their return they were attacked, for no known cause, by a party of 
Indians, one man being killed and two wounded. This made Hudson 
very suspicious of the natives. He would permit no more to come on 
board, — except a few who were detained as prisoners, but afterwards 
escaped, — and soon weighed anchor and stood up through the Nar- 
rows, entering New York harbor.] 

Hudson, having ascended thus far, prepared now to ex- 
plore the magnificent river which rolled its waters into 
the sea from unknown regions, in the probable hope that 
it would lead him to the long-sought-for passage to the 
Indies. He accordingly weighed in the afternoon of the 
12th September, and commenced his memorable voyage 
up that majestic stream which has since handed his name 
down to posterity. 

[He sailed on up the river, through the highland region, being 
everywhere received with enthusiasm by the natives, who crowded on 
board with their commodities.] 

Distrustino; the savages all alonsr, Hudson determined 



O'Callaghan] the settlement OF NEW YORK. 185 

now to tiy an experiment which, by throwing them off 
their guard, would elicit any treachery which might be 
latent in their dispositions. He accordingly invited sev- 
eral of the chiefs into the cabin, and gave them plenty of 
brandy to drink, so as to make them intoxicated. The 
result was that one got drunk, and fell sound asleep, to 
the great astonishment of his companions, who " could 
not tell how to take it." They all took suddenly to their 
canoes and hurried ashore, leaving their stupefied coun- 
tryman behind them. Their anxiety for his welfare 
soon induced them, however, to return with a quantity 
of beads which they gave him, to enable him, perhaps, 
to bribe or exorcise "the foul fiend" which had posses- 
sion of him. The savage slept soundly all night, and was 
quite recovered from the effects of his debauch when his 
friends came to see him next day. So rejoiced were these 
people at finding their chief restored, as it were, to life, that 
they returned on board in crowds again in the aftei-noon, 
bringing tobacco and more beads, which they presented 
to Hudson, to whom they made an oration, showing him 
the country round about. The}'' then sent one of their 
company on land, who presently returned with a great 
platter of dressed venison, which they caused Hudson to 
eat with them ; after which they made him profound rev- 
erence and departed, all save the old man, who, having 
had a taste of the fatal beverage, preferred to remain on 
board. 

Such Avas the introduction among the Indians, by the 
first European that came among them, of that poison 
which, combined with other causes, has since operated to 
deprive their descendants of almost a foothold in their 
native land, and caused, within a few centuries, the almost 
entire extinction of the Eed race. 

The Half Moon had now evidently ascended as high as 
I. 16* 



186 AMERICAN HISTORY. [O'Callaghan 

she could go. She had reached a little below the present 
city of Albany, and Hudson, having satisfied himself, by 
despatching a boat some seven or eight leagues higher 
up, that he had gained the head of the ship-navigation, 
prepared to retrace his course. 

[His descent of the river was much more expeditious than the up- 
ward voyage. On reaching the vicinity of Stony Point he was visited 
by Indians, one of whom stole some articles fi'om the cabin and wa.' 
shot and killed by the mate.] 

On the following day they descended about seven leagues 
farther, and came to anchor. Here they were visited by 
a canoe, on board of which was one of the savages who 
had made his escape from the vessel as she was going uj). 
Fearing treachery, Hudson would not allow either him or 
his companions on board. Two other canoes, filled with 
armed warriors, now came under the stern, and com- 
menced an attack with arrows. They were repulsed with 
a loss of three men. More than a hundred savages now 
pushed off from the nearest point of land, but one of the 
ship's cannon, having been brought to bear on these, killed 
two of the party, and the rest fled, thereupon, to the 
woods. But the savages were not yet discouraged. Nine 
or ten of the boldest of the warriors, probably incited b}" 
the two who had made their escape from the Half Moon 
on her way up, threw themselves into a canoe and made 
for the vessel ; but these fared no better than those who 
preceded them. A cannon-shot drove a hole through 
their canoe, and killed one of the men. This was fol- 
lowed by a discharge of musketry, which killed three 
or four more, and put an end to the battle. The Half 
Moon now descended some five miles farther down, prob- 
ably near Hoboken, and thus got beyond the reach of all 
enemies. 



O'Callaghan] the settlement OF NEW YORK. 187 

Hudson had now thoroughly explored the river, from its 
mouth to the head of navigation, and had secured for his 
employers possessions which would reward them beyond 
measure for the expense they had incurred. For himself he 
had won an immortality which was destined to hand down 
his name to the latest age. Happy at the result, he left 
" the great mouth of the Great Eiver," and put to sea, with 
all sails set, to communicate to those in Holland in whose 
service he was the tidings of his valuable discovery. 

[For years a trading-station was the extent of the Dutch settlement 
on Manhattan Island ; yet the number of settlers gradually increased, 
and in 1615 a settlement was made at Albany. The country was called 
New Netherland. In 1618 the settlers made an important treaty of 
peace and alliance with the Iroquois.] 

When the Dutch arrived in America the tribes compos- 
ing the Five Nations were at war with the Algonquin or 
Canada Indians. But the latter, having formed an alliance 
with the French, who some years previous to this date had 
commenced the settlement of New France, as Canada was 
called, derived such powerful aid from the fii-e-arms of their 
European allies that the Iroquois were defeated in almost 
every rencontre with their ancient enemy. Smarting under 
the disgrace of these unexj)ected repulses, the Iroquois hailed 
the establifihment among them, now, of another European 
nation familiar with the use of these terrible instruments, 
which, almost without human intervention, scattered death 
wherever they were directed, and defied the war-club and 
bow and arrow as weapons of attack or defence. Though 
jealous by nature, and given to suspicion, the Indians ex- 
hibited none of these feelings towards the new-comers, 
whose numbers were too few even to protect themselves or 
to inflict injury on others. On the contrary, they courted 
their friendship, for through them they shrewdly calculated 
on being placed in a condition to cope with the foe, or to 



188 AMERICAN HISTORY. [O'Cali.aghan 

obtain that bloody triumph for which they thirsted. Such 
were the circumstances which now led to that treaty of 
alliance which, as the tradition goes, was concluded on the 
banks of the Norman's Kill, between the Five Nations and 
the Dutch. 

Nothing could surpass the importance the warhke in- 
habitants of those ancient forests attached to the ratifica- 
tion of this solemn treaty. Each tribe sent its chief as its 
ambassador to represent it on this occasion. The neigh- 
boring tribes — the Lenni Lenape and Mobegans — were in- 
vited to attend ; and there, in the presence of the earth, 
their common mother, — of the sun, which shed its genial 
heat on all alike, — by the murmurs of that romantic stream, 
whose waters had been made to flow by their common 
Maker from all time, was the belt of peace held fast by the 
Dutch and their aboriginal allies, in token of their eternal 
union. There was the calumet smoked, and the hatchet 
buried, while the Dutch traders declared that they should 
forthwith erect a church over that weapon of war, so that 
it would no more be exhumed without overturning the 
sacred edifice, and whoever dared do that should incur the 
resentment of the white man. Ey this treaty the Dutch 
secured for themselves the quiet possession of the Indian 
trade, and the Five Nations obtained the means to assert 
that ascendency which they ever after maintained over 
the other native tribes, and to inspire terror far and near 
among the other savages of North America. 

[Up to 1623 only trading-settlements existed. In that year the 
actual colonization of the country took place, though a governor was 
not appointed till two years afterwards. Captain Mey, who took out 
the settlers, also ascended Delaware Bay and Kiver in 1623, and built 
Fort Nassau, a few miles below Camden. This fort was soon aban- 
doned. In 1631 a colony was planted in Delaware, near the present 
Lewistown, but the settlers were soon murdered by the Indians. The 



I 



I 



O'Callaghan] the settlement OF NEW FORK. 189 

Dutch claim now extended from Cape Henlopen to Cape Cod. This 
claim was disputed by the New-Englanders, who formed settlements 
in Connecticut and on Long Island. They endeavored, also, to trade 
with the Hudson Eiver Indians. In 1633 one Jacob Eelkins arrived 
at New Amsterdam in an English ship called the William. He was 
ordered to depart by Wouter van T wilier, the Dutch governor.] 

Aftei" an interval of five days, the factor of the William 
went again on shore to the fort, to inquire if the director- 
general would permit him, in a friendly way, to ascend the 
river, stating at the same time that, if he would not allow 
it, he [Eelkins] would proceed without his consent, if it 
should cost him his life. But Van Twiller was immovable. 
Instead of consenting, he ordered the ship's crew on shore, 
and, in the presence of all, commanded the Prince of 
Orange's flag to be run up the fort, and three pieces of 
ordnance to be fired in honor of his highness. Eelkins, 
not to be outdone, immediately ordered his gunner to go 
on board the William, to hoist the English flag, and fire a 
salute of three guns in honor of the King of England, 
which was accordingly done. Van Twiller now warned 
Eelkins to take heed that what he was about did not cost 
him his neck. Eelkins, however, noway daunted, returned 
on board with the ship's crew. The anchor was weighed, 
and the William shortly after sailed up the river, "near to 
a fort called Orange." 

Director van Twiller, incensed at this audacit}^, collected 
all the servants of the company in the fort before his door, 
ordered a barrel of wine to be broached, and, having taken 
a bumper, cried out, " Those who love the Prince of Orange 
and me, emulate me in this, and assist me in repelling the 
violence committed by that Englishman!" The cask of 
wine was soon emptied, but the people were noways dis- 
posed at first to trouble the Englishman. . . . 

The William having, in the mean while, arrived in the 



190 AMERICAN HISTORY. [O'Callaghan 

neighborhood of Fort Orange, the factor and crew went 
ashore " about a mile below that fort." set up a tent, and, 
having landed all their goods, immediately ojiened an ac- 
tive trade with the natives. It was not long before the 
news of these proceedings came to the ears of Houten, the 
commissary at Fort Orange. He forthwith embarked, with 
a trumpeter, on board a shallop, over which waved some 
green boughs, and proceeded to where Eelkins was. " By 
the way the trumpet was sounded, and the Dutchmen 
drank a bottle of strong waters of three or four pints, and 
were right merry." The Dutch set up a tent by the side 
of that of the English ; did as much as thej^ could to dis- 
parage their cloth and other goods, with a view to hinder 
the latter's trade ; but the Indians, having been well ac- 
quainted with Eelkins, who had " heretofore lived four 
yeares among them," and could speak their language, were 
a good deal more willing to trade with him than with the 
others, and he consequently had every prospect of advan- 
tageously disposing of his merchandise, having been four- 
teen days there, when a Dutch officer arrived from below, 
in command of three vessels, a pinnace, a carvel, and a 
hoy, bearing two letters, protesting against Eelkins, and 
ordering him to depart forthwith. 

To enforce these commands came soldiers " from both 
the Dutch forts, armed with muskets, half-pikes, swords, 
and other weapons," and, after having beaten several of the 
Indians who had come to trade with Eelkins, ordered the 
latter to strike his tent. In vain he pleaded that he was 
on British soil, and that British subjects had a right to 
trade there ; the Dutch would not listen to any remon- 
strances. They pulled his tent about his ears, sent the 
goods on board, " and, as they were carrying them to the 
ship, sounded their trumpet in the boat in disgrace of the 
English." 



D'Callaghak] the settlement OF NEW YORK. 191 

[In this chronicle of the adventures of the first English ship that 
sailed up the Hudson we have a scene ridiculous enough to find a place 
in Knickerbocker's " History of New York." The succeeding troubles 
of the Dutch were with the Swedes and the Indians. In 1640 war 
began with the neighboring Indians, which continued till terminated 
by the mediation of the Iroquois, in 1645. In 1G38 the Swedes settled 
on the Delaware, near the present Wilmington, and gradually extended 
their settlements until 1655, when they were attacked by the Dutch, 
and all their forts captured. The Swedes remained, under Dutch gov- 
ernment. In 1664 the King of England granted to his brother James 
all the country from the Connecticut to the Delaware, heedless of the 
claims of the Dutch. A squadron was sent out, and the Dutch were 
forced to surrender New Amsterdam. Thus, by an act of flagrant in- 
justice, while England and Holland were at peace, the Dutch domin- 
ion in North America was overthrown, after half a century of exist- 
ence. Mr. O'Callaghan gives some brief details of the condition of 
affairs in New Amsterdam in 1646, which we transcribe.] 

Slaves constituted, as far back as 1628, a portion of the 
population. The introduction of this class was facilitated 
by the establishments which the Dutch possessed in Brazil 
and on the coast of Gruinea, as well as by the periodical 
capture of Spanish and Portuguese prizes, and the circum- 
stances attendant upon the early settlement of the coun- 
try. The expense of obtaining labor from Europe was 
great, and the supply by no means equal to the demand. 
To add to these embarrassments, the temptations held 
out by the fur-trade were so irresistible that the servants, 
or " boere-knechts," who were brought over from Hol- 
land, were soon seduced from the pursuits of agriculture. 
Farmers were consequently obliged to employ negroes, 
and slave-labor thus became, by its cheapness and the 
necessity of the case, one of the staples of the country. 

The lot of the African imder the Dutch was not as hope- 
less as his situation might lead us to expect. He was a 
"chattel," it is true; but he could still look forward to the 
hour when he too might become a freeman. In the years 



192 AMERICAN HISTORY. [O'Callaghan 

1G44 and 1646, several negroes and their wives, who had 
originally been captured from the Spaniards, had been 
manumitted, in consequence of their long and faithful 
services. To enable them to provide for their support they 
obtained a grant of land ; but as the price of their manu- 
mission they were bound to pay yearly twenty-two bushels 
and a half of corn, wheat, peas, or beans, and one fat hog 
valued at eight dollars, failing which, they were to lose 
their liberty and return again to their former state of ser- 
vitude. . . . The price of a negro averaged between one 
hundred and one hundred and fifty dollars. . . . 

The greater number of the houses around Forts Amster- 
dam and Orange were, in those days, low-sized wooden 
buildings, with roofs of reed or straw, and chimneys of 
wood. Wind- or water-mills were erected, here and there, 
to grind corn, or to saw lumber. One of the latter, situated 
on Nut or Governor's Island, was leased in 1639 for five 
hundred merchantable boards yearly, half oak and half pine. 
Saw- and grist-mills were built upon several of the creeks 
in the colon}' of Eensselaerswyck, where "a horse mill" was 
also erected in 1646. A brewery had been constructed pre- 
vious to 1637, in the same quarter, by the Patroon, with the 
exclusive right of supplying retail dealers with beer. But 
private individuals were allowed the privilege, notwith- 
standing, to brew whatever quantity of beer they might 
require for consumption within thetr own families. 

[These settlements were established under two different systems of 
government. The "colonics" were governed on a feudal principle, the 
Patroon, or proprietor, having sovereign authority over his vassals, 
who swore allegiance to him, and submitted to his special courts, 
ordinances, and laws. In return he was bound to protect them. The 
other system was a municipal one, like that of the manors of Hol- 
land, the qualified electors of cities, villages, and hamlets being em- 
powered to nominate the magistrates, who needed to be confirmed by 
the director and council. Through these regulations the democratic 




A DUTCH INTKRIOK. 



Stouqhton] the QUAKER COLON V. 193 

spirit of Holland was carried over to New Amsterdam, and a republican 
sentiment of a different type from that of the English colonies was 
instituted.] 



THE QUAKER COLONY. 

JOHN STOUGHTON. 

[In 1638 a colony of Swedes settled on Christiana Creek, in the 
present State of Delaware. Governor Kieft, of New Amsterdam, 
considered this an intrusion on his territory, and, as a check to their 
aggression, rebuilt the previously abandoned Fort Nassau, below the 
present Camden. The Swedes gradually extended their settlements, 
the territory occupied reaching from Cape Henlopen to a point op- 
posite Trenton. Their governor built a fort and a residence on the 
island of Tinicum, below Philadelphia. In 1655 the Swedes were 
attacked by the Dutch, and their forts taken. The most of them con- 
tinued on their estates, under Dutch authority. The territory of New 
Jersey was granted in 1664 to Lord Berkeley and Sir George Carteret. 
Berkeley sold his share in 1674 to John Fenwick, in trust for Edward 
Byllinge, who subsequently assigned his claim to William Penn and 
two other Quakers. The province was then divided, Carteret re- 
ceiving the eastern portion, and the Quaker assignees the western por- 
tion, on the Delaware. It was in this way that William Penn first 
became interested in the settlement of America. As two colonies, 
Massachusetts and Maryland, had already been formed through the 
desire for religious liberty, it occurred to him to establish a refuge in 
the New World for the persecuted sect of which he was a member. 
This was first attempted in West Jersey. A free constitution was 
given to the settlers, granting important privileges of civil and re- 
ligious liberty. Quakers were specially recommended to take advan- 
tage of it, and more than four hundred emigrated to the province 
in 1677. In 1682, William Penn and eleven others purchased East 
Jei"sey, so that the whole province then canae under Quaker control. 
Robert Barclay, author of the " Apology for Quakers," was appointed 
governor for life. 

In 1681, Penn obtained from Charles II. a grant of all the lands 
I.— I n 17 



194 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stoughton 

embraced in the present State of Pennsylvania. His purpose in this 
was not alone to convert and civilize the Indians, as expressed in 
the charter, but also to foi-m an asylum for those desirous of civil and 
religious liberty, in which the principles of Peace, as advocated by 
his sect, might be efficiently carried out. He soon after obtained a 
grant of the present State of Delaware, then called " The Territories." 
In September, 1682, he set sail for his new province, with a large 
number of emigrants of his own religious belief. Others had preceded 
him. The story of his landing and his actions in the New World we 
extract from John Stoughton's "William Penn," from the fact that 
this writer gives the true story of that celebrated " Treaty with the 
Indians," concerning which so little is actually known, yet which 
has been made the basis of so many imaginative statements, full of 
dramatic interest, yet with very small foundation in fact.] 

Convenience, thoughts of commerce, the selection of a 
fitting spot for a great city, the choice of a harbor for the 
shipping of the world, no doubt mainly determined the 
site of Philadelphia. But utilit}^ and the picturesque often 
go together. . . . Whether the commissioners sent out by 
Penn, who marked the foundation for the noble metropo- 
lis of their new State, had much care for landscape beauty, 
I cannot say ; but, at all events, they managed to secure 
it, even if aiming at far other things. Nearl}^ forty years 
before, red Indians were haunting the shore about a mile 
from Fort Nassau, and there some Dutchmen bought land 
from these wild children of the Avest, and mounted the 
flag of their country on a tall boundary-mark as a sign 
of possession. 

[A quarrel ensued with the neighboring Swedes, who tore down 
the flag.] 

Between thirty and forty years afterwards the region 
remained infested with wolves, and the heads of these 
animals were brought in to be paid for by the scanty 
settlers at the rate of fifty-five heads for forty guilders. 



Stoughton] the QUAKER COLONY. 195 

Some acres between " the land of Wiccaco" and " the land 
of Jurian Hartsfielder" were granted on petition in 1677 
to one Peter Rambo, but on the complaint of a neighbor- 
ing family, who laid claim to it, the grant was cancelled. 
This became the site of the new city. 

Penn did not land there. His voyage from England 
lasted two months, and on its way the Welcome was 
scourged bj^ the small-pox, which swept off no less than 
one-third of the hundred passengers who had embarked 
at Deal. The first point on the American coast which the 
vessel reached was " the Capes," on the 24th of October, 
1682, and on the 28th Penn landed at New-Castle. He 
was " hailed there with acclamation by the Swedes and 
Dutch," says one authority, who informs us that the 
Swedes were living in log cabins and clay huts, the men 
dressed "in leather breeches, jerkins, and match coats," 
the women " in skin jackets and linsey petticoats ;" but 
the old records of New-Castle give a more stately descrip- 
tion of the arrival. Penn produced two deeds of enfeoff- 
ment, and John Moll, Esq., and Ephraim Hannan, gentle- 
man, performed livery of seisin by handing over to him 
turf and twig, water and soil, and with due formality the 
act was recorded in a document signed with nine names. 
The inhabitants of the little settlement afterwards gave a 
pledge of obedience. . . . 

After this Penn visited New York, and returned at the 
end of a month, when he went to a place called Upland, 
and, turning round to a Quaker friend who had come with 
him in the Welcome, he said, "Providence has brought us 
here safe ; thou hast been the companion of ray perils : what 
wilt thou that I should call this place ?" Pearson said, 
"Chester," in remembrance of the city whence he came. . . . 

The Great Law, as it was called, or rather the body 
of laws, of the province of Pennsylvania, was passed at 



196 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stouqhton 

Chester the 7th of December, 1682 ; and here we have 
the scheme of legislation devised by the founder. It re- 
quires attention, as expressing his political views. It 
lays down the principle of liberty of conscience for the 
whole province, and it recognizes intolerance as intolera- 
ble. " If any person shall abuse or deride any other for 
his or her different persuasion or practice in matter of 
religion, such shall be looked upon as disturber of the 
peace, and be punished accordingly." The observance of 
the Lord's Day is prescribed, but is not enforced by 
penalties. All government oflScers and servants are to 
profess belief in the Divinity of Christ ; profaneness and 
blasphemy are to be punished, and several criminal of- 
fences are carefully specified. Drinking healths, and sell- 
ing rum to Indians, come under the same category ; so do 
stage plays, and other amusements fashionable in the days 
of Charles II. Days and months are not to be called by 
heathen names. These are the only peculiar laws; the 
rest being provisions for trial by jury, for purity of elec- 
tion, and for strictly legal taxation. 

[This code bears a close resemblance, in its provisions for religious 
tolejance, to that previously passed in Maryland, already quoted.] 

The Assembly which passed the laws of Pennsylvania 
sat for three days, and after its adjournment Penn paid a 
visit to Maryland, and had an interview with Lord Balti- 
more respecting the boundaries of the two provinces. . . . 
Penn returned to Chester, and thence proceeded to the 
spot where, in after-time, the capital city of his province 
was to rise and spread in all its magnificence. His ar- 
rival is an event of great interest ; but he himself has 
given no account of it, nor have any of his contempo- 
raries left a connected description of the circumstances. 
By piecing together scattered fragments of tradition, how- 



Stoxjghton] the QUAKER COLONY. 197 

ever, something like a full narrative of what occurred 
may be constructed. 

He proceeded along the river in an open boat till he 
reached "a low and sandy beach," at the mouth of what 
was called the Dock Creek ; on the opposite side of it was 
a grassy and wet soil, yielding an abundance of whortle- 
berries ; beyond was the " Society Hill,"' rising up to what 
is now Pine Street, covered then with wild outgrowths, — 
the neighborhood containing woods in which rose lofty 
elms and masses of rich laurels. The margin of the creek 
here and there produced evergreen shrubs, and near them 
were wigwams of red Indians, who had settled down for 
a while as a starting-point for favorite hunting-grounds. 
When Penn and his companions arrived they found some 
men busy building a low wooden house, destined, under 
the name of the Blue Anchor, to be an object of interest 
and a subject of controversy. These men, and a few 
European colonists who were scattered about the locality, 
pressed towards the boat to give a cordial welcome as the 
Englishmen stepped on shore. 

If not immediately, we may be sure that soon afterwards 
the Indians would come forward to gaze on the white men 
from the other side of the world ; and then would begin 
those manifestations of kindness towards the children of 
the forest which made an indelible impression on them, 
and on others who witnessed the interviews. A lady, who 
lived to be a hundred, used to speak of the governor as 
being of "rather short statui-e, but the handsomest, best- 
looking, lively gentleman she had ever seen." "He en- 
deared himself to the Indians by his mai'ked condescension 
and acquiescence in their wishes. He walked with them, 
sat with them on the ground, and ate with them of their 
roasted acorns and hominy. At this they expressed their 
great delight, and soon began to show how they could 
I. 17* 



198 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stoughton 

hop and jump; at which exhibition, William Penn, to cap 
the climax, sprang up and beat them all." Probably a 
little imagination enlivened the old lady's recollections, and 
she condensed several meetings into one ; but as Penn was 
at that time under forty, and he had been fond of active 
sports in earlier days,- the story, on the whole, is quite 
credible ; and it is curious to find an old journalist leaving 
on record that the founder of Pennsylvania was " too prone 
to cheerfulness for a grave public Friend," especially in the 
eye of those of them who held " religion harsh, intolerant, 
severe." 

Blue Anchor Tavern was pulled down years ago, but 
some archaeological Philadelphians still preserve relics of 
the old timbers. 

The city had been planned beforehand, the streets 
marked, and the names given ; and these being Yine, Wal- 
nut, Pine, Sassafras, and Cedar, we may believe that such 
trees abounded in the woods into the midst of which the 
city ran. The name of Philadelphia was chosen by the 
founder, its scriptural and historical associations being 
probably present to his mind ; but the chief object of the 
choice was a lesson to its inhabitants " touching broth- 
erly love, upon which he had come to these parts, which he 
had shown to Dutch, Swedes, Indians, and others alike, 
and which he wished might forever characterize his new 
dominions." 

[The fact stated concerning the founding of Philadelphia is of in- 
terest, since it seems to be the only city that was planned and definitely 
laid out by the early settlers of America. The other ancient cities 
of the country grew as chance willed. The recta ngularitj' of Penn's 
idea has its advantages, but its disadvantages as well, and some greater 
degree of chance growth would have been useful. Penn is said to 
have purchased the land for his city from its Swedish occupants, and 
to have made with the Indians a treaty, which has attained great celeb- 
rity, though very little is known about it.] 



Stuughton] the QUAKER COLONY. 19D 

The Treaty-Elm locality — the spot where stood the tra- 
ditionary elm — is known, and is identified by a monument 
on the spot ; but as to the treaty said to have been ratified 
there, imagination has had play, for historical information 
is wanting. Everj'body has seen Benjamin West's picture 
of the treat}^ between Penn and the Indians, and the artist's 
fancy has been made the basis of historical description. 
So unsatisfactory was the state of the question years ago, 
that the Historical Society of Philadelphia appointed a 
committee of inquiry. They reported that a treaty did 
take place, probably in November, 1682 [this date does 
not agree with that of Penn's first visit to Philadelphia as 
above given], at Shackamaxon, under an elm-tree blown 
down in 1810. The treaty was probably made with the 
Delaware tribes as '• a treaty of amity and friendship," 
and not for the purchase of territory. The speeches made, 
the dresses worn, and the surrounding scene, appear now 
to be altogether fictitious. 

Materials, however, exist for forming some idea of the 
manner in which the treaty would be conducted. " I have 
had occasion," says Penn, "to be in council with them 
upon treaties for land, and to adjust the terms of trade. 
Their order is thus : 

" The king sits in the middle of an half-moon, and has 
his council, the old and wise, on each hand. Behind them, 
or at a little distance, sit the younger fry, in the same 
figure. Having consulted and resolved their business, the 
king ordered one of them to speak to me. He stood up, 
came to me, and in the name of his king saluted me, then 
took me by the hand, and told me that he was ordered by 
his king to speak to me, and that now it was not he but 
the king who spoke, because what he should say was the 
king's mind. He first prayed with mo to excuse them 
that they had not complied with me the last time. He 



200 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stoughton 

feared there might be some fault in the interpreter, being 
neither Indian nor English. Besides, it was the Indian 
custom to deliberate and take up much time in council 
before they resolved ; and that if the young people and 
owners of the land had been as ready as he, I had not 
met with so much delay. Having thus introduced his 
matter, he fell to the bounds of the land they had agreed 
to dispose of, and the pi'ice, which now is little and dear; 
that which would have bought twenty miles not buy- 
ing now two. During the time that this person spoke, 
not a man of them was observed to whisper or smile, the 
old grave, the young reverent, in their deportment. They 
speak little, but fervently, and with elegance. I have 
never seen more natural sagacity, considering them with- 
out the help (I was going to say the spoil) of tradition ; 
and he will deserve the name of wise who outwits them 
in 2inj treaty about a thing they understand. When the 
purchase was agreed, great promises passed between us 
of kindness and good neighborhood, and that the English 
and Indians must live in love as long as the sun gave 
light ; which done, another made a speech to the Indians 
in the name of all the sachamakers or kings ; first, to tell 
them what was done ; next, to charge and command them 
to love the Christians, and particularly to live in peace 
with me and the people under my government ; that 
many governors had been in the river, but that no gov- 
ernor had come himself to live and stay there before ; 
and having now such an one, who had treated them well, 
they should never do him or his any wrong ; at every 
sentence of which they shouted, and said Amen in their 
way." 

[It is stated that by the terras of one of Penn's treaties of land- 
purchase with the Indians, the land granted was to extend as far back 



Stoughton] the QUAKER COLONY. 201 

as a man could walk in three days. Penn and some of his friends, 
and a numher of Indian chiefs, started to measure this territory, and 
walked leisurely up the Delaware from the mouth of the JSTeshaminy 
for a day and a half, and then stopped, concluding that that was suffi- 
cient for the present, and that the remainder might be measured when 
needed. In 1733 the then Governor of Pennsylvania undertook to 
measure the remainder. He employed a walker noted for his speed, 
who succeeded in covering eighty-six miles in his day and a half. 
This shrewd and rascally trick caused the first breach in the confidence 
of the Indians, and it is significant that the first murder of a white 
man by an Indian in Pennsylvania was upon the ground of which 
•.hey had been thus robbed.] 

When Penn had enjoyed possession of his territory a 
little while, he wrote an account of it to the " Free Society 
of Traders of Pennsylvania," and in it he manifests a power 
of graj)hic description really admirable. It brings the whole 
country vividly before our eyes ; the land, " the best vales 
of England watered by brooks ; the air, sweet ; the heavens, 
serene like the south of France ; the seasons, mild and 
temperate ; vegetable productions abundant, chestnut, wal- 
nut, plums, muscatel grapes, wheat and other grain ; a 
variety of animals, elk, deer, squirrel, and turkeys weighing 
forty or fifty pounds, water-birds and fish of divers kinds, 
no want of horses ; and flowers lovely for color, greatness, 
figure, and variety." . . . 

" Philadelphia, the expectation of those who are concerned 
in this province, is at last laid out, to the great content of 
those here who are any way interested therein. The situation 
is a neck of land, and lieth between two navigable rivers, 
Delaware and Sculkill, whereby it hath two fronts upon the 
water, each a mile ; and two from river to river. Delaware 
is a glorious river ; but the Sculkill, being a hundred miles 
boatable above the falls, and its course northwest toward 
the fountain of Susquehanna (that tends to the heart of 
the province, and both sides our own), it is like to be a 



202 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stoughton 

great part of the settlement of this age. I say little of the 
town itself, because a platform will soon be shown you by 
my agent, in which those who are purchasers of me will 
find their names and interests. But this I will say, for the 
good providence of God, of all the places I have seen in the 
world, I remember not one better seated ; so that it seems to 
me to have been appointed for a town, whether we regard 
the rivers, or the convenienc}'^ of the coves, docks, and 
springs, the loftiness and soundness of the land, and the 
air, held by the people of these parts to be very good. It 
is advanced within less than a year to about fourscore 
houses and cottages, such as they are, where merchants and 
handicrafts are following their vocations as fast as they can ; 
while the countrj-men are close at their farms." 

[Within two years of his arrival the infant city contained three 
hundred houses, and the population was reckoned at two thousand 
five hundred. Penn returned to England in 1G84. There he met with 
misfortunes, and in 1692 his proprietary right was taken from him ; 
but it was restored in 1694. In 1699 he again visited America. He 
found the people dissatisfied, and demanding further concessions and 
privileges. He framed a new charter, more liberal than the former. 
The city now contained seven hundred houses, and was very pros- 
perous. He returned to England in 1701, after having made new 
treaties with the Indians and done all in his power to settle the atfaii-s 
of his province. He died in 1718, leaving his interest in Pennsylvania 
to his sons. It continued in the family until the Eevolution, when 
the claims of the Proprietors were purchased by the commonwealth 
for a value of about five hundred and eighty thousand dollars.] 




THE OLDEST HOUSE IN GERMANTOWN. 



Williamson] THE " GRAND MODEL'' GOVERNMENT. 203 
THE "GRAND MODEL" GOVERNMENT. 

HUGH WILLIAMSON. 

[The settlement of the three southern colonies of the United States 
may be dealt with briefly, as it was attended with no events of special 
importance. Of these colonies Georgia was not settled until 1732. The 
consideration of it, therefore, properly belongs to the succeeding sec- 
tion of this work. The provinces of North and South Carolina origi- 
nally constituted but one. We have already described the early ef- 
forts to colonize this region, those of Kibaut at Port Royal and of 
Raleigh on Roanoke Island. About 1630, Sir Robert Heath was 
granted a tract embracing the Carolinas, but no settlements were made 
under the grant. The earliest emigrants came from Virginia about 
1650. In 1663 the province of Carolina was granted to Lord Claren- 
don and seven others. The charter secured religious freedom and a 
voice in legislation to the people, but retained the main power and 
privilege in the hands of the proprietaries. In 1660 or 1661 a party 
of New-Englanders settled on Cape Fear River near Wilmington. 
The settlement was soon abandoned, on account of Indian hostilities, 
but a permanent colony was established in the same locality in 1665, 
by a party of planters from Barbadoes. 

The charter of the proprietaries embraced the whole region from 
Virginia to Florida, and in 1670 a colony was planted on the Ashley 
River, in the South Carolina region, which was known as the Carteret 
County Colony, on the site of Old Charleston. Slaves from Barba- 
does were soon introduced, Dutch settlers came from New Netherland, 
then recently taken by the English, and afterwards from Holland, a 
colony of Huguenot refugees from France was sent out by the King 
of England, and the new settlement prospered. In 1680 the city of 
Charleston was founded, and was at once declared the capital of the 
province. The growth of the settlements in North Carolina was less 
rapid, many of the colonists removing south, while domestic dissea- 
sions retarded prosperity. 

The most interesting feature attending the colonization of the prov- 
ince of Carolina, however, was the remarkable system of government 
devised, at the request of the proprietaries* by the celebrated English 
philosopher John Locke. Made in the retirement of his study, and 
based upon conditions of society utterly unlike those of the thinly- 



204 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Williamson 

settled wilderness of America, Locke's scheme was absurdly unsuited 
to the purpose designed, while its autocratic character was entirely 
out of accordance with the democratic sentiments of the settlers. As 
a strenuous effort, however, was made to carry out the provisions of 
this magnificently-absurd " Grand Model" of government, we may 
give its leading features, as epitomized by Hugh Williamson in his 
" History of North Carolina."] 

As it was to be expected that a great and fertile province 
would become the residence of a numerous and powerful 
body of people, the lords proprietors thought fit in the 
infant state of these colonies to establish a permanent form 
of government. Their object, as they expressed them- 
selves, was " to make the government of Carolina agree, 
as nearly as possible, to the monarchy of which it was a 
part, and to avoid ei'ecting a numerous democracy." Lord 
Ashley, one of the pi'oprietors, who was afterwards created 
Earl of Shaftesbury, a man of fine talents, was requested 
by the proprietors to prepare a form of government ; but 
he availed himself of the abilities of John Locke, the cele- 
brated philosopher and metaphysician, who drew up a plan, 
consisting of one hundred and twenty articles or fundamen- 
tal constitutions, of which the following are the outlines : 

Carolina shall be divided into counties. Each county 
shall consist of eight signiories, eight baronies, and four 
precincts. Each precinct shall consist of six colonies. 
Each signiory, barony, or colony shall consist of twelve 
thousand acres. The signiories shall be annexed unaliena- 
bly to the proprietors ; the baronies, to the nobility ; and 
the precincts, being three-fifths of the whole, shall remain 
to the people. . . . 

There shall be two orders of nobility, chosen bj'' the pro- 
jjrietors, — viz., landgraJk^es and casiques. 

There shall be as many landgraves as counties, and twice 
as many casiques. 



Williamson] THE " GRAND MODEL'' GOVERNMENT. 205 

Each landgrave shall hold four baronies, and each casique 
two baronies. 

[From the year 1701 the proprietaries and nobility were to be in- 
alienably hereditary.] 

There ma}^ be manors, to consist of not less than three 
thousand acres or more than twelve thousand in one tract 
or colony. 

The lord of every signiory, baronj', or manor shall have 
the power of holding court leet, for trying causes civil or 
criminal, with appeal to the precinct or county court. 

No leet man shall remove from the land of his lord 
without permission. 

There shall be eight supreme courts. The oldest pro- 
prietor shall be palatine ; and each of the other proprie- 
tors shall hold a great office, — viz., the several offices of 
chancellor, chief justice, constable, admiral, treasurer, high 
steward, and chamberlain. 

[The formation of the courts of the proprietors is here laid down, 
and the various officers are designated.] 

Of the forty-two counsellors, in the several courts, the 
greater number shall be chosen out of the nobles or the 
sons of proprietors or nobles. 

There shall be a grand council, which is to consist of the 
palatine, the other seven proprietors, and the forty-two 
counsellors from the courts of the several proprietors. 
They shall have the power of making war and peace, 
etc. 

[The formation of the minor courts is then designated.] 

No cause of any freeman, civil or criminal, shall be tried 
in any court, except by a jury of his peers. 

Juries are to consist of twelve men, of whom it shall be 
sufficient that a majoi"ity are agreed. 
I. 18 



206 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Williamson 

It shall be a base and infamous thing, in any court, to 
plead for money or reward. 

The parliament shall meet once every two years. It shall 
consist of all the proprieto.rs or their deputies, the land- 
graves, the casiques, and one commoner from each precinct, 
chosen by the freeholders in their respective precincts. 
These four estates shall sit in one room, each man having 
one vote. . . . 

No matter shall be proposed in parhament that had not 
previously been prepared and passed by the grand council. 

No act shall continue in force longer than to the next 
biennial meeting of parliament, unless in the mean time it 
shall have been ratified by the palatine and a quorum of 
the proprietors. 

While a bill is on its passage before the parliament, any 
proprietor or his deputy may enter his protest against it, 
as being contrary to any of the fundamental constitutions 
of government. In which case, after debate, the four orders 
shall retire to four separate chambers ; and if a majority 
of either of the four estates determines against the bill, it 
shall not pass. . , . 

The Church of England being deemed the only true 
orthodox church, no provision shall be made by parliament 
for any other church. . . . 

No man, above the age of seventeen years, shall have 
any benefit of the laws, whose name is not recorded as a 
member of some church or religious profession. 

These fundamental and unalterable constitutions were 
signed by the lords pr*oprietors the first of March, 1669. 
It would be difficult to account for some of the articles 
that are contained in this plan of government, except by re- 
curring to the old adage that respects Scylla and Charybdis. 

The proprietors, or some of them, had lately smarted 
under a government that was called republican. They 



Williamson] THE ''GRAND MODEL'' GOVERNMENT. 207 

were zealous royalists ; and they expected, by the help of a 
powerful aristocracy, to obviate the return of republican 
measures ; but we are sorry to find among the works of 
John Locke, who was an advocate for civil and religious 
liberty, a plan of government that in some articles does not 
consist with either. 

It will readily be perceived that a government to be ad- 
ministered b}" nobles was not well adapted to a country 
in which there was not one nobleman. . . . The lords pro- 
prietors, in the mean time, resolved to come as near to 
the great model as possible. For this purpose, Governor 
Stevens of Albemarle and Sayle of Carteret were instructed 
to issue writs requiring the freeholders to elect five persons, 
who, with five others to be chosen by the proprietors, were 
to form a grand council for the governor. 

The parliament was to be composed of this great council 
and twenty delegates, who were also to be chosen by the 
freemen. In the mean time the proprietors made tem- 
porary laws for the preservation of good order in the 
several colonies, — laws that were little respected by men 
who had not been consulted in forming them. 

[Locke's governmental scheme never took root in Carolina. It was 
a government of theory, not the result of a natural growth, as all 
persistent government must be, and was utterly unsuited to the condi- 
tions of a thinlj'^-settled colony inhabiting a wilderness and composed 
of persons little disposed to submit to regulations more aristocratic 
than those from which they had emigrated. The plain and simple 
laws under which the colonists had previously lived were suited to 
their circumstances, while the "great model," with its nobles, pala- 
tines, and other grand officers, was in ridiculous contrast with the 
actually existing condition of sparse population, rude cabins, and 
pioneer habits. A strong effort was made to establish it, but the 
people effectually resisted, and, after twenty yeai-s of contest, Locke's 
constitution, which had simply kept the country in a state of discord, 
was voluntarily abrogated by the proprietaries.] 



208 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Du Pratz 

LOUISIANA AND THE NATCHEZ. 

LE PAGE DU PRATZ. 

[One more colony whose settlement was effected in the seventeenth 
century here demands attention, — that of Louisiana. After the death 
of De Soto on the Mississippi, in 1642, that great river was not visited 
by the whites until more than a century had elapsed. It was next 
reached, in its upper courses, by Jesuit missionaries from Canada, 
whose efforts to convert the heathen made them among the most 
daring and persistent explorers of the interior of America. As early 
as 1634 they penetrated the wilderness to Lake Huron, and established 
missions among the savages of that region. Failing in similar efforts 
to convert the Iroquois, they pushed farther west, and in 1665 Father 
AUouez reached Lake Superior, and landed at the great village of 
the Chippewas. Learning from the Indians of the existence of a 
great river to the westward, called by them the Mes-cha-ce-be, or 
" Father of Waters," two missionaries, Marquette and Joliet, set out 
from Green Bay to make its discovery, under the illusory hope that it 
might furnish the long-sought water-way to China. They reached 
the strea.m on June 17, 1673, and floated down it as far as the mouth 
of the Arkansas, where they found the natives in possession of Euro- 
pean articles, and became convinced that the river must flow into 
the Gulf of Mexico. 

The Mississippi was again reached, in 1680, by Father Hennepin, 
the advance pioneer of the exploring party under La Salle, who had 
set out to investigate thoroughly the great river. Hennepin ascended 
the stream to beyond the Falls of St. Anthony, where he was held 
captive for a while by the Sioux Indians. La Salle did not reach the 
Mississippi until two years afterwards, when he embarked on its 
mighty flood, and floated down it until its mouth was reached and 
the adventurers found themselves on the broad surface of the Gulf 
of Mexico. To the territories through which he passed he gave the 
name of Louisiana, in honor of Louis XIY. of France. In 1684 he 
sailed from France, with a party of settlei-s, for the mouth of the 
Mississippi, which, however, he failed to find, landing his colonists 
at the head of Matagorda Bay, in Texas. La Salle was afterwards 
murdered while journeying overland to the Illinois, and the Matagorda 
Bay settlement was broken up by Indian hostility. 



DuJ'RATz] LOUISIANA AND THE NATCHEZ. 209 

In Upper Louisiana a Jesuit mission was established in 1G85 at 
Kaskaskia, the first permanent colony in the Mississippi region. In 
1698, Lemoine d'Iberville, a French officer, obtained a patent for 
planting a colony in the southern part of the territory. He succeeded 
in finding the mouth of the Mississippi, and was the first to enter that 
stream from the sea. He sailed up it as far as the mouth of the Ked 
Kiver, and, returning, erected a fort at the head of the Bay of Biloxi. 
It proved an unhealthy station, and in 1701 he removed the colonists 
to the western bank of the Mobile Eiver, thus founding the first Euro- 
pean settlement in Alabama. The colonizing of southern Louisiana 
proved a slow process. At successive periods colonists arrived there, 
but no permanency was attained until 1718, when John Law, the 
promoter of the notorious " Mississippi Company," sent out eight 
hundred emigrants. Some of these settled on the Bay of Biloxi, some 
on the site of New Orleans. With this party was Du Pratz, the 
historian of the colony. The subsequent disastrous failure of the Mis- 
sissippi Company did not break up the colony, though the scattered 
settlements found themselves environed with many difficulties, chief 
among which were troubles with hostile Indians. These difficulties 
were principally with the Natchez, who massacred a Trench settle- 
ment and were in turn totally destroyed, and with the Chickasaws, 
who held their own valiantly against the French, after a war of several 
years' duration. We append, from Du Pratz's " History of Louisi- 
ana," his curiously-interesting story of the war with the Natchez, a 
tribe which was in several respects the most remarkable among the 
Indians of the region of the United States. We have already, in our 
article on the Aborigines of America, described its principal peculi- 
arities.] 

In the beginning of the month of December, 1729, we 
heard at New Orleans, with the most affecting grief, of 
the massacre of the French at the post of the Natchez, 
occasioned by the imprudent conduct of the commandant. 
I shall trace that whole affair from its rise. 

The Sieur de Chopart had been commandant of the post 

of the Natchez, from which he was removed on account 

of some acts of injustice. M. Perier, commandant-gen- 

ex-al, but lately arrived, suffered himself to be prepossessed 

i.—o 18* 



210 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Du Pratz 

in his favor, on his telling him that he had commanded 
that post with applause ; and thus he obtained the com- 
mand from M. Perier, who was unacquainted with his 
character. 

This new commandant, on taking possession of his post, 
projected the forming one of the most eminent settlements 
of the whole colony. For this purpose he examined all 
the grounds unoccupied by the French, but could not find 
anything that came up to the grandeur of his views. 
Nothing but the village of the White Apple, a square 
league at least in extent, could give him satisfaction ; 
where he immediately resolved to settle. This ground 
was distant from the fort about two leagues. Conceited 
with the beauty of his project, the commandant sent for 
the Sun of that village to come to the fort. 

The commandant, upon his arrival at the fort, told him, 
without further ceremony, that he must look out for an- 
other ground to build his village on, as he himself resolved, 
as soon as possible, to build on the village of the Apple ; 
that he must directly clear the huts and retire somewhere 
else. The better to cover his design, he gave out that it 
was necessary for the French to settle on the banks of 
the rivulet where stood the Great Village and the abode 
of the Grand Sun. The commandant, doubtless, supposed 
that he was speaking to a slave whom we may command 
in a tone of absolute authority. But he knew not that 
the natives of Louisiana are such enemies to a state of 
slavery that they prefer death itself thereto; above all, 
the Suns, accustomed to govern despotically, have still a 
greater aversion to it. 

The Sun of the Apple thought that if he was talked to 
in a reasonable manner he might listen to him ; in this he 
had been right, had he to deal with a reasonable person. 
He therefore made answer that his ancestors had lived in 



Du Pratz] LOUISIANA AND THE NATCHEZ. 211 

that village for as many years as there were hairs in his 
double cue, and therefore it was good they should continue 
there still. 

Scarce had the interpreter explained this answer to the 
commandant, but he fell into a passion, and threatened the 
Sun if he did not quit his village in a few days he might 
repent it. The Sun replied, when the French came to ask 
us for lands to settle on, they told us there was land 
enough still unoccupied, which they might take ; the same 
sun would enlighten them all, and all would walk in the 
same path. He wanted to proceed further in justification 
of what he alleged ; but the commandant, who was in a 
passion, told him he was resolved to be obeyed, without 
any further reply. The Sun, without discovering any 
emotion or passion, withdrew, only saying he was going 
to assemble the old men of his village, to hold a council 
on this affair. 

[At this council it was resolved to represent to the French that the 
corn was just out of the ground and the chickens were laying their 
eggs, and to ask for delay. This the commandant rejected, with a 
threat to chastise them if they did not obey quickly. It was next 
proposed that each hut in the village would pay him a basket of corn 
and a fowl for the privilege of remaining till the harvest had been 
gathered. To this the avaricious commandant agreed. But the Sun 
had other objects in view. Meetings of the old men of the village 
were held, at which it was resolved to destroy the insolent intruders 
who had treated them like slaves and soon would deprive them of all 
their liberty. It was proposed to cut oiF the French to a man, in a 
single hour. The oldest chief advised that, on the day fixed for the 
contribution, the warriors should carry some corn to the commandant, 
as an instalment on their payment. He further advised them] 

"also to carry with them their arms, as if going out to 
hunt, and that to every Frenchman in a French house there 
shall be two or three Natchez ; to ask to borrow arms and 
ammunition for a general hunting-match on account of 



212 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Du Pratz 

a great feast, and to promise to bring them meat ; the 
report of the firing at the commandant's to be the signal to 
fall at once upon and kill the French ; that then we shall 
be able to prevent those who may come from the old French 
village (New Orleans) by the great water (Mississippi) ever 
to settle here." 

He added that, after apprising the other nations of the 
necessity of taking that violent step, a bundle of rods in 
number equal to that they should reserve for themselves 
should be left with each nation, expressive of the number 
of days that were to precede that on which they were to 
strike the blow at one and the same time. And to avoid 
mistakes, and to be exact in pulhng out a rod every day 
and breaking and throwing it away, it was necessary to 
give this in charge to a person of prudence. Hei'e he 
ceased, and sat down. They all approved his counsel, and 
were to a man of his mind. 

The project was in like manner approved of by the Sun 
of the Apple; the business was to bring over the Grand 
Sun, with the other petty Suns, to their opinion; because, 
all the princes being agreed as to that point, the nation 
would all to a man implicitly obey. They, however, took 
the precaution to forbid ajjprising the women thereof, not 
excepting the female Suns (princesses), or giving them the 
least suspicion of their designs against the French. 

[Within a short time the Grand Sun, the Stung Serpent, his uncle, 
and all the Suns and aged nobles, were brought into the scheme. It 
was kept secret from the people, and none but the female Suns had a 
right to demand the object of these many meetings. The grand female 
Sun was a princess scarce eighteen, but the Stung Arm, mother of the 
Grand Sun, a woman of experience, and well disposed towards the 
French, induced her son to tell her of the scheme which had been 
devised. He also told her that the bundle of rods lay in the temple.] 

The Stung Arm, being informed of the whole design, 



Du Pratz] LOUISIANA AND THE NATCHEZ. 213 

pretended to approve of it, and, leaving her son at ease, 
henceforward was only solicitous how she might defeat this 
barbarous design : the time was pressing, and the term pre- 
fixed for the execution was almost expired. 

[She vainly attempted to convey a warning to the commandant. 
The hints of danger she sent him by soldiers were blindly ignored.] 

The Stung Arm, fearing a discovery, notwithstanding 
her utmost precaution and the secrecy she enjoined, re- 
paired to the temple and pulled some rods out of the fatal 
bundle ; her design w^as to hasten or forward the term jH'e- 
fixed, to the end that such Frenchmen as escaped the 
massacre might apprise their countrj-men, many of whom 
had informed the commandant, who clapt seven of them in 
iron.s, treating them as cowards on that account. . . . 

Notwithstanding all these informations, the commandant 
went out the night before [the fatal day] on a party of 
pleasure, with some other Frenchmen, to the grand village 
of the Natchez, without returning to the fort till break of 
day ; where he was no sooner come, but he had pressing 
advice to be upon his guard. 

The commandant, still flustered with his last night's 
debauch, added imprudence to his neglect of these last 
advices, and ordered his interpreter instantly to repair to 
the grand village and demand of the Grand Sun whether 
he intended, at the head of his warriors, to come and kill 
the French, and to bring him word directly. The Grand 
Sun, though but a young man, knew how to dissemble, and 
spoke in such a manner to the interpreter as to give full 
satisfaction to the commandant, who valued himself on his 
contempt of former advices : he then repaired to his house, 
situate below the fort. 

The Natchez had too well taken their measures to be 
disappointed in the success thei'eof. The fatal moment 



214 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Du Pratz 

was at last come. The Natchez set out on the eve of St. 
Andrew, 1729, taking care to bring with them one of the 
lower sort, armed with a wooden hatchet, in order to 
knock down the commandant : they had so high a con- 
tempt for him that no warrior would deign to kill him. 
The houses of the French filled with enemies, the fort in 
like manner with the natives, who entered in at the gate 
and breaches, deprived the soldiers, without officers or even 
a sergeant at their head, of the means of self-defence. In 
the mean time the Grand Sun arrived, with some warriors 
loaded with corn, in appearance as the first payment of 
the contribution; when several shots were heard. As this 
fii'ing was the signal, several shots were heard at the 
same instant. Then at length the commandant saw, but 
too late, his foUy : he ran into the garden, whither he was 
pursued and killed. The massacre was executed every- 
where at the same time. Of about seven hundred per- 
sons, but few escaped to carry the dreadful news to the 
capital ; on receiving which the governor and council were 
sensibly affected, and orders were despatched everj^ where 
to put people on their guard. 

The other Indians were displeased at the conduct of the 
!N"atchez, imagining they had forwarded the term agreed 
on, in order to make them ridiculous, and proposed to take 
vengeance the first opportunity, not knowing the true 
cause of the precipitation of the Natchez. 

After they had cleared the fort, warehouse, and other 
houses, the Natchez set them all on fire, not leaving a 
single building standing. 

[Steps were immediately taken by the French to revenge themselves 
upon their enemies. A force, partly made up of Choctaw allies, as- 
sailed the fort of the Natchez, who offered to release the French women 
and children prisoners if peace was promised them. This was agreed 
to, and the Natchez took advantage of the opportunity to vacate the 



Du Pratz] LOUISIANA AND THE NATCHEZ. 215 

fort by stealth, under cover of night, with all their baggage and plun- 
der, leaving only the cannon and ball behind. They took refuge in a 
secret place to the west of the Mississippi, which proved ditBcult to 
discover. As soon as the place of concealment was found, the French 
set out to chastise the murderei-s.] 

The Messrs. Perier set out with their army in very 
favorable weather, and arrived at last, without obstruc- 
tion, near to the retreat of the Natchez. To get to that 
place, they went up the Red River, then the Black River, 
and from thence up the Silver Creek, which communicates 
with a small lake at no great distance from the fort which 
the Natchez had built in order to maintain their ground 
against the French. 

The Natchez, struck with terror at the sight of a vigi- 
lant enemy, shut themselves up in their fort. Despair 
assumed the place of prudence, and they were at their 
wits' end on seeing the trenches gain ground on the fort : 
they equip themselves like warriors, and stain their bodies 
with different colors, in order to make their last efforts by 
a sally which resembled a transport of rage more than 
the calmness of valor, to the terror, at first, of the soldiers. 

The reception they met from our men taught them, 
however, to keep themselves shut up in their fort ; and 
though the trench was almost finished, our generals were 
impatient to have the mortars put in a condition to play 
on the place. At last they are set in battery; when the 
third bomb happened to fall in the middle of the fort, the 
usual place of residence of the women and children, they 
set up a horrible screaming ; and the men, seized with 
grief at the cries of their wives and children, made the 
signal to capitulate. 

The Natchez, after demanding to capitulate, started dif- 
ficulties, which occasioned messages to and fro till night, 
which they wanted to avail themselves of, demanding till 



216 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Du Pratz 

next day to settle the articles of capitulation. The night 
was granted them, but, being narrowly watched on the 
side next the gate, they could not execute the same pro- 
ject of escape as in the war with M. de Loubois. How- 
ever, they attempted it, by taking advantage of the ob- 
scurity of the night, and of the apparent stillness of the 
French ; but they were discovered in time, the greatest 
part being constrained to retire into the fort. Some of 
them only happened to escape, who joined those that were 
out a-hunting, and all together retired to the Chickasaws. 
The rest surrendered at discretion, among whom were the 
Grand Sun, and the female Suns, with several warriors, 
many women, young people, and children. 

The French army re-embarked, and carried the Natchez 
as slaves to New Orleans, where they were put in prison ; 
but afterwards, to avoid an infection, the women and chil- 
dren were disposed of in the king's plantation, and else- 
where ; among these women was the female Sun called 
the Stung Arm, who then told me all she had doiie in 
order to save the French. 

Some time after, these slaves were embarked for St. 
Domingo, in order to root out that nation in the colony ; 
which was the only method of effecting it, as the few 
that escaped had not a tenth of the women necessary to 
recruit the nation. And thus that nation, the most con- 
spicuous in the colony, and most useful to the French, was 
destroyed. 



Grahame] the persecution OF THE QUAKERS. 217 



SECTION IV. 
PEOGRESS OF THE COLONIES. 



THE PERSECUTION OF THE QUAKERS. 

JAMES GRAHAME. 

[The history of Massachusetts during the h\tter half of the seven 
teenth century presents several occurrences of particular interest, such 
as the Quaker persecution, King Philip's Indian war, and the witch- 
craft delusion. The first of these now calls for attention. "We may 
premise with a brief statement of preceding events. One of these was 
an eflfort in England to prevent Puritan emigration, which is said to 
have had the effect to retain John Hampden and Oliver Cromwell in 
that country. If so, the king in this committed an error which in 
the end proved fatal to himself. In 1638, John Harvard, a ministei 
of Charlestown, left something over three thousand dollars in support 
of a school previously founded by the colony. This was the origin of 
Harvard College. In 1643 the four colonies of Plymouth, Massachu 
setts, Connecticut, and New Hampshire formed a confederacy, under 
the title of The United Colonies of New England. Ehodp 
Island was, at a later date, refused admission into the confederacy 
which continued in existence for over forty years. Each colony was 
to contribute men and money to the common defence, while two com- 
missioners from each colony formed an annual assembly for tho 
settlement of all questions relating to the confederacy. 

The religious dissensions which had formerly agitated the colony 
were renewed by the emigration of persons of other sectarian views, 
Y?ho were little disposed to submit to the intolerance of the Puritan 
churches and tribunals. In 1651 a party of Anabaptists reached Mas- 
sachusetts. The doctrines they advocated raised a storm of opposition 
in the colony ; they were arrested, tried, fined, and one of them severely 
I.— K 19 



218 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Grahamk 

flogged, and a law was passed banishing from the colony any one who 
should oppose the dogma of infant baptism. The treatment received 
by the Quakers was of sufficient severity and importance to demand 
special consideration, and we therefore select a description of it from 
James Grahame's " History of the United States."] 

The treatment which the Quakers experienced in Mas- 
sachusetts was much more severe [than that of the Ana- 
baptists], but certainly much more justly provolvcd. It is 
difficult for us in the calm and rational deportment of the 
Quakers of the present age to recognize the successors 
of those wild enthusiasts who first appeared in the north 
of England about the year 1644 and received from the 
derision of the world the title which the}" afterwards 
adopted as their sectarian denomination. . . . When the 
doctrines of Quakerism were first promulgated, the efi'ects 
which they produced on many of their votaries far ex- 
ceeded the influence to which modern history restricts 
them, or which the experience of a rational and calcu- 
lating age finds it easy to conceive. In England, at that 
time, the minds of men were in a state of feverish agita- 
tion and excitement, inflamed with the rage of innovation, 
strongly imbued with religious sentiment, and yet stronglj- 
averse to restraint. The bands that so long repressed 
liberty of speech being suddenly broken, many crude 
thoughts were eagerly broached, and many fantastic 
notions that had been vegetating in the unwholesome 
shade of locked bosoms were abruptly brought to light ; 
and all these were presented to the souls of men roused 
and whetted by civil war, kindled by great alarms or by 
vast and indeterminate designs, and latterly so accustomed 
to partake or contemplate the most surprising changes, 
that with them the distinction between speculation and 
certainty was considerably eff'aced. . . . 

It was the wildest and most enthusiastic visionaries of 



Grahame] the persecution OF THE QUAKERS. 219 

the age whom Quakerism counted among its earliest vota- 
ries, and to whom it afforded a sanction and stimulus to 
the boldest excursions of unregulated thought, and a 
principle that was adduced to consecrate the rankest 
absurdity of conduct. . . . The unfavorable impression 
which these actions created long survived the extinction 
of the frenzy and folly that produced them. 

"While, in pursuance of their determination to prosely- 
tize the Avhole world, some of the Quakers travelled to 
Eome, in order to illuminate the Pope, and others to Con- 
stantinople, for the purpose of converting the Grand Turk, 
a party of them embarked for America and established 
themselves in Rhode Island, where persons of every re- 
ligious (Protestant) denomination were permitted to settle 
in peace, and no one gave heed to the sentiments or prac- 
tices of his neighbors. From hence they soon made their 
way into the Plymouth territory, where they succeeded 
in persuading some of its inhabitants to embrace the doc- 
trine that a sensible experience of inward light and spirit- 
ual impression was the meaning and end of Christianity 
and the essential characteristic of its votaries, and to op- 
pose all regulated order, forms, and discipline, whether 
civil or ecclesiastical, as a vain and Judaizing substitution 
of the kingdom of the flesh for the kingdom of the spirit. 

On their first appearance in Massachusetts (July, 1656), 
where two male and six female Quakers arrived from 
Rhode Island and Barbadoes, they found that the reproach 
entailed on their sect by the insane extravagance of some 
of its members in England had preceded their arrival, and 
that they were regarded with the utmost terror and dis- 
like by the great bulk of the people. They were instantly 
arrested by the magistrates, and diligently examined for 
what were considered bodily marks of witchcraft. No 
such indications having been found, they were sent back 



220 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Grahame 

to the places whence they came, by the same vessels that 
had brought them, and prohibited with threats of severe 
punishment from ever again returning to the colony. A 
law was JDassed at the same time, subjecting every ship- 
master importing Quakers or Quaker writings to a heavy 
fine; adjudging all Quakers who should intrude into the 
colony to stripes and labor in the house of correction, and 
all defenders of their tenets to fine, imprisonment, oi 
exile. . . . 

The penal enactments resorted to by the other settle- 
ments [than Ehode Island] served only to inflame the 
impatience of the Quaker zealots to carry their ministry 
into places that seemed to them to stand so greatl}^ in 
need of it ; and the persons who had been disappointed in 
their first attempt returned almost immediately to Massa- 
chusetts, and, dispersing themselves through the colony, 
began to proclaim their mystical notions, and succeeded in 
communicating them to some of the inhabitants of Salem. 
They were soon joined by Mar}^ Clarke, the wife of a 
tailor in London, who announced that she had forsaken 
her husband and six children in order to convey a message 
from heaven, which she was commissioned to deliver to 
New England. Instead of joining with the provincial 
missionaries in attempts to reclaim the neighboring sav- 
ages from their barbarous superstition and profligate im- 
moralities, or themselves prosecuting separate missions 
with a like intent, the apostles of Quakerism raised their 
voices in vilification of everything that w^as most highly 
approved and revered in the doctrine and practice of the 
provincial churches. Seized, imjjrisoned, and flogged, they 
were again dismissed with severer threats from the colony, 
and again they returned by the first vessels they could 
procure. The government and a great majority of the 
colonists were incensed at their stubborn pertinacity, and 



Grahame] the persecution OF THE QUAKERS. 221 

shocked at the impression which they had ah-eady pro- 
duced on some minds, and which threatened to corrupt 
and subvert a system of piety whose establishment, fru- 
ition, and perpetuation supplied their fondest recollections, 
their noblest enjoyment, and most energetic desire. New 
punishments were introduced into the legislative enact- 
ments against the intrusion of Quakers and the profession 
of Quakerism (1657); and in particular the abscission of 
an ear was added to the former ineffectual severities. 
Three male Quaker preachers endured the rigor of this 
cruel law. 

But all the exertions of the provincial authorities proved 
unavailing, and seemed rather to stimulate the zeal of the 
obnoxious sectaries to brave the danger and court the 
glory of persecution (1658). Swarms of Quakers descended 
upon the colony ; and, violent and impetuous in provoking 
persecution, calm, resolute, and inflexible in sustaining 
it, they opposed their power of enduring cruelty to their 
adversaries' power of inflicting it, and not only multiplied 
their converts, but excited a considerable degree of favor 
and pity in the minds of men who, detesting the Quaker 
tenets, yet derived from their own experience a peculiar 
sympathy with the virtues of heroic patience, constancy, 
and contempt of danger. ... It was by no slight provo- 
cations that the Quakers attracted these and additional 
severities upon themselves. ... In public assemblies and 
in crowded streets, it was the practice of some of the 
Quakers to denounce the most tremendous manifestations 
of divine wrath on the people, unless they forsook their 
carnal system. One of them, named Faubord, conceiving 
that he experienced a celestial encouragement to rival the 
faith and imitate the sacrifice of Abraham, was proceed- 
ing with his own hands to shed the blood of his son, when 
his neighbors, alarmed by the cries of the lad, broke into 
I. 19* 



222 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Grahame 

the house and prevented the consummation of this blas- 
phemous atrocity. Others interrupted divine service in 
the churches by loudly protesting that these were not 
the sacrifices that God would accept ; and one of them il- 
lustrated his assurance by breaking two bottles in the 
face of the congregation, exclaiming, " Thus will the Lord 
break you in pieces !" They declared that the Scriptures 
were replete with allegory, that the inward light was the 
only infallible guide to religious truth, and that all were 
blind beasts and liars Avho denied it. 

The female preachers far exceeded their male associates 
in folly, frenzy, and indecency. One of them presented 
herself to a congregation with her face begrimed with 
coal-dust, announcing it as a pictorial illustration of the 
black pox, which Heaven had commissioned her to predict 
as an approaching judgment on all carnal worshippers. 
Some of them in rueful attire perambulated the streets, 
proclaiming the speedy arrival of an angel with a drawn 
sword to plead with the people ; and some attempted feats 
that may seem to verify the legend of Godiva of Coventry. 
One woman, in particular, entered stark naked into a 
church in the middle of divine service, and desired the 
people to take heed to her as a sign of the times, and 
an emblem of the unclothed state of their own souls ; and 
her associates highly extolled her submission to the inward 
light, that had revealed to her the duty of illustrating the 
spiritual nakedness of her neighbors by the indecent ex- 
hibition of her own person. Another Quakeress was ar- 
rested as she was making a similar display in the streets 
of Salem. The horror justly inspired by these insane 
enormities was inflamed into the most vehement indigna- 
tion by the deliberate manner in which they were defended, 
and the disgusting profanity with which Scripture was 
linked in impure association with notions and behavior at 



Gbahame] the persecution OF THE qUAKERS. 223 

once ridiculous and contemptible. Among other singulari- 
ties, the Quakers exemplified and inculcated the forbeai'- 
ance of even the slightest demonstration of respect to 
courts and magistrates ; they declared that governors, 
judges, lawyers, and constables were trees that cu.mbered 
the ground, and presently must be cut down, in order that 
the true light might have leave to shine and space to rule 
alone ; and they freely indulged every sally of distempered 
fancy which they could connect, however absurdly, with 
the language of the Bible. . . . 

It has been asserted b}^ some of the modern apologists 
of the Quakers that these frantic excesses, which excited 
so much attention and produced such tragical consequences, 
were committed, not by genuine Quakers, but by the Rant- 
ers, or wild separatists from the Quaker body. Of these 
Eanters, indeed, a very large proportion certainly betook 
themselves to America. ... It is certain, however, that 
the persons whose conduct we have particularized assumed 
the name of Quakers, and traced all their absurdities to 
the peculiar Quaker principle of searching their own 
bosoms for sensible admonitions of the Holy Spirit, inde- 
pendent of the scriptural revelation of divine will. And 
many scandalous outrages were committed by persons 
whose profession of Quaker principles was recognized by 
the Quaker body, and whose sufferings are related, and 
their frenzy applauded, by the pens of Quaker writers. 

Exasperated by the repetition of these enormities, and 
the extent to which the contagion of their radical princi- 
ple was spreading in the colony, the magistrates of Mas- 
sachusetts, in the close of this year (1658), introduced 
into the Assembly a law denouncing the punishment of 
death upon all Quakers returning from banishment. This 
legislative proposition was opposed by a considerable 
party of the colonists ; and various individuals, who 



224 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Grahami. 

would have hazarded their own lives to extirpate the 
heresy of the Quakers, solemnly protested against the 
cruelty and iniquity of shedding their blood. It was at 
first rejected by the Assembly, but finally adopted by the 
narrow majority of a single voice. In the course of the 
two following years (1659, 1660) this barbarous law was 
carried into execution on three separate occasions, — when 
four Quakers, three men and a woman, were put to death 
at Boston. It does not appear that any of these unfor- 
tunate persons were guilty of the outrages which the 
conduct of their brethren in general had associated with 
the profession of Quakerism. Oppressed by the preju- 
dice created by the frantic conduct of others, they were 
adjudged to die for returning from banishment and con- 
tinuing to preach the Quaker doctrines. In vain the 
court entreated them to accept a pardon on condition 
of abandoning forever the colony from which they had 
been repeatedly banished. They answered by reciting the 
heavenly call to continue there, which on various occa- 
sions, they affirmed, had sounded in their ears, in the 
fields and in their dwellings, distinctly syllabling their 
names and whispering their prophetic office and the scene 
of its exercise. When they were conducted to the scaf- 
fold, their demeanor expressed unquenchable zeal and 
courage, and their dying declarations breathed in general 
a warm and affecting piety. 

These executions excited much clamor against the gov- 
ernment ; many persons were offended by the exhibition 
of severities against which the establishment of the colony 
itself seemed intended to bear a perpetual testimony ; 
and many were touched with an indignant compassion for 
the sufferings of the Quakers, that effaced all recollection 
of the indignant disgust which the principles of these sec- 
taries had previously inspired. The people began to flock 



Church] THE DEATH OF KING PHILIP. 225 

in crowds to the prisons and load the unfortunate Quakers 
with demonstrations of kindness and pity. 

[This feeling finally became so strong that the magistrates dared 
no longer oppose it. After the condemnation of Wenlock Christison, 
who had defended himself with marked ability, the magistrates felt it 
necessary to change the sentences of the condemned Quakers to flog- 
ging and banishment. As the demeanor of the Quakers grew more 
quiet and orderly, the toleration of them increased, and the flogging 
of Quakers was soon after prohibited by Charles II.] 

The persecution thus happily closed was not equally 
severe in all the New England States : the Quakers suf- 
fered most in Massachusetts and Plymouth, and compara- 
tively little in Connecticut and New Haven. It was only 
in Massachusetts that the inhuman law inflicting capital 
punishment upon them was ever carried into effect. At 
a subsequent period, the laws relating to vagabond Quakers 
were so far revived that Quakers disturbing religious as- 
semblies, or violating public decorum, were subjected to 
corporal chastisement. But little occasion ever again oc- 
curred of executing these severities, the wild excursions 
of the Quaker spirit having generally ceased, and the 
Quakers gradually subsiding into a decent and orderly 
submission to all the laws, except such as related to the 
militia and the support of the clergy, — in their scruples 
as to which the provincial legislature, with reciprocal 
moderation, consented to indulge them. 



THE DEATH OF KING PHILIP. 

BENJAMIN CHURCH. 

[After the defeat of the Pequots the New England colonies escaped 
the horrors of Indian warfare for a period of nearly forty years. This 
era of peace was destined to be followed by an era of terror and 
i.—p 



226 AMERICAN HISTORY [Church 

massacre, beginning with the celehrated King Philip's War, and con- 
tinuing through the successive wars between the French and English, 
known as King William's and Queen Anne's Wars, and at a later 
period King George's and the French and Indian Wars, in which all 
the barbarity of savage warfare was let loose upon the devoted colonies 
of New England. During the life of Massasoit, the sachem of the 
Wampanoags, the treaty of peace which he had early made with the 
Plymouth colony continued unbroken. After his death his sons, 
Alexander and Philip, were suspected of hostile intentions. Alex- 
ander soon died, and Philip became sachem of the tribe. According 
to the early New England writers, he for several years occupied him- 
self in organizing a secret confederacy of the Indian tribes against the 
whites, of whose growing power he was jealous. Later historians 
doubt this, and are inclined to believe that he was driven into hos- 
tility by outrages committed by the whites, and impulsive reprisals by 
Indians. However that be, the existence of a plot, real or spurious, 
was declared by an Indian missionary, who was soon after murdered. 
Three Indians were arrested and hung for the crime. Philip now, by 
his own inclination, or by the determination of his tribe, prepared for 
war. The women and children of the tribe were sent to the Narra • 
gansetts for protection, and in July, 1675, an attack was made on the 
village of Swanzey, in Massachusetts, and several persons were killed. 
The whole country quickly took the alarm, and troops from Plym- 
outh and Boston marched in pursuit of the enemy. It must be 
borne in mind that the long interval of peace had greatly changed 
the conditions of both parties to the war. On the one hand, the whites 
of New England had greatly grown in strength, and now numbered 
about sixty thousand souls, while numerous settlements had been 
founded. On the other hand, the Indians no longer looked upon 
powder and ball as "bad medicine," which it was dangerous to touch. 
On the contrary, they had adopted the European methods of fight- 
ing, and exchanged the bow and arrow for the musket and bullet. 
We may briefly relate the events of the war. The pui-suing troops 
made their way to Mount Hope, the residence of Philip, but he fled, 
with his warriors, at their approach. He was shortly afterwards 
attacked in a swamp at Pocasset, but after a thirteen days' siege 
managed to escape. Other tribes were now brought into the war, and 
a party of twenty whites were ambushed and most of them killed. 
The remainder intrenched themselves in a house at Brookfleld, where 
they sustained a siege for two days, until relieved. 



Church] THE DEATH OF KIAG PHILIP. 227 

On September 5 the Indians were attacked and defeated at Deer- 
field, and on the 11th they burned the town. On the same day they 
attacked the town of Hadley. The tradition goes that during the 
fight a venerable stranger suddenly appeared, put himself at the 
head of the townsmen, and drove back the foe. This is said to have 
been General GoflTe, one of the judges of Charles I., then concealed 
in that town. The story is entirely traditional, and has been called in 
question. On the 28th a party of eighty teamsters were assailed by 
a large body of Indians, and nearly all killed. The Indians were sub- 
sequently repulsed by a reinforcement of soldiers. Philip's next attack 
was upon Hatfield, where he met with a defeat. 

By this time the hostility to the whites had extended widely among 
the Indians. The Narragansetts had as yet kept the treaty of peace 
which had been made with them, but they were suspected of favoring 
Philip and of intending to break out into hostilities in the spring. It 
was therefore determined to crush them during the winter. A force 
of fifteen hundred men marched against their stronghold, — a fort 
in the midst of a great swamp, surrounded with high palisades, and 
having but a single entrance, over a fallen tree, which but one man at 
a time could cross. Here three thousand Indians had collected, with 
provisions, intending to pass the winter. They were attacked with 
fury, on December 29, by the English, but the latter were driven back 
with heavy loss. Another party of the invaders waded the swamp, 
and found a place destitute of palisades. They broke through this, 
with considerable loss, while others forced their way over the tree. A 
desperate conflict ensued, ending in a defeat of the Indians. The wig- 
wams were then set on fire, contrary to the advice of the ofBcers, and 
hundreds of women and children, and old, wounded, and infirm men, 
perished in the flames. Of the Narragansett warriors a thousand were 
killed or mortally wounded, and several hvmdreds taken prisoners. 
Cold and famine during the winter killed many more, but the weak 
remnant of the tribe joined Philip and became bitterly hostile. The 
war now extended to Maine and New Hampshire, whose settlements 
were exposed to the fury of Indian attack. The power of the Indians 
rapidly diminished, however, before the energy and discipline of the 
whites, and Philip found himself steadily growing weaker. It is said 
that he endeavored to persuade the Mohawks to join him, but in vain. 
In August, 16/6, he returned, with a small party of warriors, to Poka- 
noket, or Mount Hope, the seat of his tribe. Tidings of this fiict were 
brought to Captain Church, one of the most active of his adversaries, 



228 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Chcrch 

who repaired with a small party to the spot. Captain Church has left 
on record the story of his connection with this war. It is the artless 
and prolix narrative of one better acquainted with the sword than with 
the pen, yet has the merit of being an exact relation of the facts, and 
of showing clearly the spirit of the Indian-fighters of that day. "We 
therefore extract from the " History of the Great Indian War of 1675 
and 1676," by this grim old Indian-fighter, an account of the death of 
King Philip. This history was written by the son of Captain Church, 
from the notes of his father.] 

Captain Church being now at Plymouth again, weary 
and worn, would have gone home to his wife and family, 
but the government being solicitous to engage him in the 
service until Philip was slain, and promising him satisfac- 
tion and redress for some mistreatment that he had met 
with, he fixes for another expedition. 

He had soon volunteers enough to make up the company 
he desired, and marched through the woods until he came 
to Pocasset. And not seeing or hearing of any of the 
enemy, they went over the ferry to Ehode Island, to re- 
fresh themselves. The captain, with about half a dozen 
in his company, took horses and rode about eight miles 
down the island, to Mr. Sanford's, where he had left his 
wife. [She] * no sooner saw him, but fainted with surprise ; 
and by that time she was a little revived, they spied two 
horsemen coming a great pace. Captain Church told his 
company that " those men (by their riding) come with 
tidings." "When they came up, they proved to be Major 
Sanford and Cajstain Golding. [They]* immediatel}- asked 
Captain Church, what he would give to hear some news 
of Philip ? He replied, that was what he wanted. They 
told him they had rode hard with some hopes of over- 
taking him, and were now come on purpose to inform him 
that there were just now tidings from Mount Hope. An 

* " Who," in the original text. 



Church] THE DEATH OF KING PHILIP. 229 

Indian came down from thence (where Philip's camp now 
was) to Sandy Point, over against Ti-ip's, and hallooed, and 
made signs to be brought over. And being fetched over, 
he reported that he was fled from Philip, " who (said he) 
has killed my brother just before I came away, for giving 
some advice that displeased him." And said he was fled 
for fear of meeting with the same his brother had met 
with. Told them, also, that Philip was now in Mount 
Hope neck. Captain Church thanked them for their good 
news, and said he hoped by to-morrow morning to have 
the rogue's head. The horses that he and his company 
came on, standing at the door (for they had not been un- 
saddled), his wife must content herself with a short visit, 
when such game was ahead. They immediately mounted, 
set spurs to their horses, and away. 

The two gentlemen that brought him the tidings told 
him they would gladly wait on him to see the event of 
the expedition. He thanked them, and told them he 
should be as fond of their company as any men's ; and 
(in short) they went with him. And they were soon at 
Trip's ferry (with Captain Church's companj^), where the 
deserter was, who was a fellow of good sense, and told 
his story handsomely. He off'ered Captain Church to pilot 
him to Philip, and to help to kill him, that he might i^e- 
venge his brother's death. Told him that Philip was now 
upon a little spot of upland, that was in the south end of 
the miry swamp, just at the foot of the mount, which was 
a spot of ground that Captain Church was well acquainted 
with. 

By that time they were over the ferry, and came 
near the ground, half the night was spent. The captain 
commands a halt, and bringing the company together, 
he asked Major Sanford's and Captain Grolding's advice, 
what method was best to take in making the onset ; but 
I. 20 



230 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Church 

they declined giving him any advice, telling him that his 
great experience and success forbid their taking upon them 
to give advice. Then Captain Church offered Captain 
Golding the honor (if he would please accept of it) to 
beat up Philip's head-quarters. 

[He designed to place the remainder of his men in ambush, and fire 
upon the Indians when they should endeavor to escape through the 
swamp.] 

Captain Church, knowing that it was Philip's custom 
to be foremost in the flight, went down to the swamp, 
and gave Captain Williams of Scituate the command of 
the right wing of the ambush, and placed an Englishman 
and an Indian together behind such shelters of trees, etc., 
that he could find, and took care to place them at such 
distance that none might pass undiscovered between them ; 
charged them to be careful of themselves, and of hurting 
their friends, and to fire at any that should come silently 
through the swamp. But, [it] being somewhat farther 
through the swamp than he was aware of, he wanted men 
to make up his ambuscade. 

Having placed what men he had, he took Major Sanford 
by the hand, [and] said, " Sir, I have so placed them that 
it is scarce possible Philip should escape them." The same 
moment a shot whistled over their heads, and then the 
noise of a gun towards Philip's camp. Captain Church, 
at first, thought it might be some gun discharged by ac- 
cident ; but before he could speak, a whole vollej' followed, 
which was earlier than he expected. 

[Captain Gelding had fired at a single Indian whom he perceived.] 

And upon his firing, the whole company that were with 
him fired upon the enemy's shelter, before the Indians had 
time to rise from their sleep, and so overshot them. But 



4 -4'^''^' '\# '=1^*^^-: 







THE DEATH OK KIXG PHILIP. 



Church] THE DEATH OF KING PHILIP. 231 

their shelter was open on that side next the swamp, built 
so on purpose for the convenience of flight on occasion. 
They were soon in the swamp, but Philip the foremost, 
who started at the first gun, threw his petunk and powder- 
horn over his head, catched up his gun, and ran as fast as 
he could scamper, without any more clothes than his small 
breeches and stockings ; and ran directly on two of Cap- 
tain Church's ambush. They let him come fair within 
shot, and the Englishman's gun missing fire, he bid the 
Indian fire away, and he did so to purpose ; sent one 
musket-ball through his heart, and another not above two 
inches from it. He fell upon his face in the mud and 
water, with his gun under him. 

[This event occurred on the 12th of August, 1676.] 

By this time the enemy perceived they were waylaid 
on the east side of the swamp, [and] tacked short about. 
One of the enemy, who seemed to be a great, surly old 
fellow, hallooed with a loud voice, and often called out, 
" Jootash, Jootash." Captain Church called to his Indian, 
Peter, and asked him, who that was that called so ? He 
answered that it was old Annawon, Philip's great captain, 
caUing on his soldiers to stand to it, and fight stoutly. 
Now the enemy finding that place of the swamp which 
was not ambushed, many of them made their escape in 
the English tracks. 

The man that had shot down Philip ran with all speed 
to Captain Church, and informed him of his exploit, who 
commanded him to be silent about it and let no man more 
know it, until they had driven the swamp clean. But 
when they had driven the swamp through, and found the 
enemy had escaped, or at least the most of them, and the 
sun now up, and so the dew gone, that they could not 
easily track them, the whole company- met together at the 



232 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Church 

place where the enemy's night shelter was, and then Cap- 
tain Church gave them the news of Philip's death. Upon 
which the whole army gave three loud huzzas. 

Captain Church ordered his body to be pulled out of 
the mire to the upland. So some of Captain Church's 
Indians took hold of him by his stockings, and some by 
his small breeches (being otherwise naked), and drew him 
through the mud to the upland ; and a doleful, great, 
naked, dirty beast he looked like. Captain Church then 
said that forasmuch as he had caused many an English- 
man's body to be unburied, and to rot above ground, that 
not one of his bones should be buried. And calling his 
old Indian executioner, bid him behead and quarter him. 
Accordingly he came with his hatchet and stood over him, 
but before he struck he made a small speech, directing it 
to Philip, and said " he had been a very great man, and 
had made many a man afraid of him, but so big as he was, 
he would now chop him in pieces." And so he went to 
work and did as he was ordered. 

Philip having one very remarkable hand, being much 
scarred, occasioned by the splitting of a pistol in it for- 
merly, Captain Church gave the head and that hand to 
Alderman, the Indian who shot him, to show to such 
gentlemen as would bestow gratuities upon him ; and ac- 
cordingly he got many a penny by it. 

[All this is brutal enough to have been the action of Indians in- 
stead of whites, and shows that disposition to insult a fallen foe 
which is a characteristic of the warfare of barbarous peoples, but has 
happily died out in civilized nations. There was a strong spice of 
savagery in the Indian-fighters of the pioneer days of America, who 
looked upon the Indians as little better than wild beasts. The fall of 
Philip ended the war in southern New England, the tribes suing for 
peace. But hostilities were continued in Maine and New Hampshire 
till 1678, when a treaty of peace was concluded with the tribes of this 
locality. The forces of the Indians, and the results of the war, are 



Bancroft] THE SALEM WITCHCRAFT. 233 

summarized by Trumbull in the following statement : " When Philip 
began the war, he and his kinswoman, "Wetamoe, had about five hun- 
dred warriors, and the Narragansetts nearly two thousand. The Nip- 
muck, Nashawa, Pocomtock, Hadley, and Springfield Indians were con- 
siderably numerous. It is probable, therefore, that there were about 
three thousand warriors combined for the destruction of the New 
England colonies, exclusive of the eastern Indians. The war termi- 
nated in their entire conquest and almost total extinction. At the same 
time, it opened a wide door for extensive settlement and population. 
This, however, in its connection with the war with the eastern Indians, 
was the most impoverishing and distressing of any that New England 
has ever experienced from its first settlement to the present time. . . . 
About six hundred of the inhabitants of New England, the greatest 
part of whom were the flower and strength of the country, either fell 
in battle or were murdered by the enemy. A great part of the in- 
habitants of the country were in deep mourning. There were few 
families or individuals who had not lost some near relative or friend. 
Twelve or thirteen towns, in Massachusetts, Plymouth, and Rhode 
Island, were utterly destroyed, and others greatly damaged. About 
six hundred buildings, chiefly dwelling-houses, were consumed with 
fire. An almost insuperable debt was contracted by the colonies, 
when their numbers, dwellings, goods, cattle, and all their resources 
were greatly diminished."] 



THE SALEM WITCHCRAFT. 

GEORGE BANCROFT. 

[King Philip's War was followed in New England by a series ot 
interesting events, embracing the actions of Andros, the tyrannical gov- 
ernor, and the eff'ort to abrogate the colonial charters, the wars with 
the French and Indians known as King "William's and Queen Anne's 
"Wars, and the remarkable witchcraft delusion, the only striking in- 
stance in this country of a peculiar form of persecution of which the 
preceding history of Europe is full. "We cannot better present the 
last-named subject than by an extract from Bancroft's " History of the 
I. 20* 



234 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Bancroft 

United States,'' in which it is handled with his usual picturesque 
ability.] 

In the last year of the administration of Andros, who, 
as the servant of arbitrary power, had no motive to dispel 
superstition, the daughter of John Goodwin, a child of 
thirteen years, charged a laundress with having stolen 
linen from the family. Glover, the mother of the laun- 
dress, a friendless emigrant, almost ignorant of English, 
like a true woman with a mother's heart, rebuked the 
false accusation. Immediately the girl, to secure revenge, 
became bewitched. The infection spread. Three others 
of the family, the youngest a boy of less than five years 
old, soon succeeded in equally arresting public attention. 
They would affect to be deaf, then dumb, then blind, or all 
three at once ; they would bark like dogs, or purr like so 
many cats; but they ale well and slept well. Cotton 
Mather went to prayer by the side of one of them, and, 
lo ! the child lost her hearing till prayer was over. What 
was to be done ? The four ministers of Boston and the 
one of Charlestown assembled in Goodwin's house, and 
spent a whole day of fasting in prayer. In consequence, 
the youngest child, the little one of four years old, was 
"delivered." But if the ministers could thus by prayer 
deliver a possessed child, then there must have been a 
witch ; the honor of the magistrates required a prosecu- 
tion of the affiiir ; and the magistrates, William Stoughton 
being one of the judges, and all holding commissions ex- 
clusively from the English king, and being irresponsible 
to the people of Massachusetts, with a " vigor" which the 
united ministers commended as "just," made "a discovery 
of the wicked instrument of the devil." The culprit was 
evidently a wild Irish woman, of a strange tongue. Good- 
win, who made the complaint, " had no proof that could 
have done her any hurt;" but "the scandalous old hag," 



Bancroft] THE SALEM WITCHCRAFT. 235 

whom some thought " crazed in her intellectuals," was 
bewildered, and made strange answers, which were taken 
as confessions ; sometimes, in excitement, using her native 
dialect. One Hughes testified that, six years before, she 
had heard one Howen say she had seen Glover come down 
her chimney. It was plain the prisoner was a Eoman 
Catholic ; she had never learned the Lord's prayer in 
English; she could repeat the paternoster fluently enough, 
but not quite correctly ; so the ministers and Goodwin's 
family had the satisfaction of getting her condemned as a 
witch, and executed. 

[Boston had its sceptics as to the reality of this tale of witchcraft, 
but the ministers, and Cotton Mather in particuhir, did their utmost 
to inflame the minds of the public on this subject. The Goodwin girl 
continued bewitched, and Cotton Mather invited her to his house, and 
made an investigation of the arts of the devil, who proved well skilled 
in languages, though there was one Indian language which he did not 
understand, and who could read men's thoughts, though it appeared 
that "all devils are not alike sagacious." Cotton Mather published a 
"Discourse" on this subject, and resolved to regard "the denial of 
devils, or of witches," as an evidence "of ignorance, incivility, and 
dishonest impudence." 

The next prosecution for witchcraft took place in 1692, three years 
later. Samuel Parris, a minister of Salem village, who had had bitter 
controversies with a part of his congregation, produced a bewitched 
daughter and niece. He flogged Tituba, a half Indian, half negro, 
servant, into confessing herself a witch. Then he accused Sarah Good, 
a poor, melancholy woman, who was put on trial for witchcraft ] 

Yet the delusion, but for Parris, would have languished. 
Of his own niece, the girl of eleven years of age, he de- 
manded the names of the devil's instruments who bewitched 
the band of " the afflicted," and then became at once in- 
former and witness. In those days there was no prosecut- 
ing officer ; and Parris was at hand to question his Indian 
servants and others, himself prompting their answers and 



236 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Bancroft 

acting as recorder to the magistrates. The recollection of 
the old controversy in the parish could not be forgotten ; 
and Parris, moved by personal malice as well as by blind 
zeal, " stifled the accusations of some," — such is the testi- 
mony of the people of his own village, — and, at the same 
time " vigilantly promoting the accusations of others," was 
" the beginner and procurer of the sore aflflictions to Salem 
village and the country." Martha Cory, who in her ex- 
amination in the meeting-house before a throng, with a 
firm spirit, alone, against them all, denied the presence of 
witchcraft, was committed to prison. Eebecca Nurse, like- 
wise, a woman of purest life, an object of the special hatred 
of Parris, resisted the company of accusers, and was com- 
mitted. And Parris, filling his praj^ers with the theme, 
made the pulpit ring with it. " Have not I chosen 3'ou 
twelve," such was his text, — " and one of you is a devil ?" 
At this, Sarah Cloyce, sister to Rebecca Nurse, rose up 
and left the meeting-house ; and she, too, was cried out 
upon, and sent to prison. 

The subject grew interesting; and, to examine Sarah 
Cloyce and Elizabeth Procter, the deputy governor and 
five other magistrates went to Salem. It Avas a great day ; 
several ministers were present, Parris ofliciated ; and, by 
his own record, it is plain that he himself elicited eveiy 
accusation. His first witness, John, the Indian servant, 
husband to Tituba, was rebuked by Sarah Cloyce, as a 
grievous liai*. Abigail Williams, the niece to Parris, was 
also at hand with her tales ; the prisoner had been at the 
witches' sacrament. Struck with horror, Sarah Cloyce 
a^ed for water, and sank down " in a dying fainting fit." 
" Her spirit," shouted the band of the afllicted, " is gone 
to prison to her sister Nurse." Against Elizabeth Procter 
the niece of Parris told stories yet more foolish than false : 
the prisoner had invited her to sign the devil's book. " Dear 



Bancroft] THE SALEM WITCHCRAFT. 237 

child," exclaimed the accused in her agony, "it is not so. 
There is another judgment, dear child ;" and her accusers, 
turning towards her husband, declared that he, too, was a 
wizard. All three were committed. Examinations and 
commitments multiplied. Giles Cory, a stubborn old man 
of more than fourscore years, could not escape the malice 
of his minister and his angry neighbors, with whom he 
had quarrelled. Edward Bishop, a farmer, cured the In- 
dian servant of a fit by flogging him ; he declared, more- 
over, his belief that he could, in like manner, cure the 
whole company of the afflicted, and, for his scepticism, 
found himself and his wife in prison. Mary East}", of 
Topsfield, another sister to Eebecca Nurse, — a woman of 
singular gentleness and force of character, deeply religious, 
yet uninfected by superstition, — was torn from her children 
and sent to jail. Parris had had a rival in George Bur- 
roughs, a graduate of Harvard College, who, having for- 
merly preached in Salem village, had had friends there 
desirous of his settlement. He, too, a sceptic in witch- 
craft, was accused and committed. Thus far, there had 
been no success in obtaining confessions, though earnest!}" 
solicited. It had been hinted, also, that confessing was 
the avenue to safety. At last. Deliverance Hobbs owned 
everything that was asked of her, and was left unharmed. 
The gallows were to be set up not for those who professed 
themselves witches, but for those who rebuked the delusion. 

[A court of magistrates, appointed under the royal charter, with 
Stoughton, a positive, overbearing man, for its chief judge, was now 
instituted for the trial of these cases. Bridget Bishop, a poor and 
friendless old woman, was the first to be tried. She had remarkable 
powers. " She gave a look towards the great and spacious meeting- 
house of Salem," says Cotton Mather, "and immediately a daemon, 
invisibly entering the house, tore down a part of it." She was a 
witch by all the rules and precedents, and was duly hanged. At the 
next session of the court five women were condemned. Rebecca Nurse 



238 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Bancroft 

was at first acquitted, then condemned, and afterwards reprieved. But 
the influence of Parris secured her condemnation, and she was hanged 
with the rest.] 

Confessions rose in importance. " Some, not aflflicted 
before confession, were so presentl}'- after it." The jails 
were filled ; for fresh accusations were needed to confirm 
the confessions. " Some, by these their accusations of 
others," — I quote the cautious apologist Hall, — " hoped to 
gain time, and get favor from the rulers.". . . If the con- 
fessions were contradictory, if witnesses uttered apparent 
falsehoods, " the devil," the judges would say, " takes away 
their memory, and imposes on their brain." And who 
would now dare to be sceptical ? Who would disbelieve 
confessors? Besides, there were other evidences. A cal- 
lous spot was the mark of the devil : did age or amaze- 
ment refuse to shed tears; were threats after a quarrel 
followed by the death of cattle or other harm ; did an 
error occur in repeating the Lord's prayer ; were deeds 
of great physical strength performed, — these were all 
signs of witchcraft. In some instances, phenomena of 
somnambulism would appear to have been exhibited ; and 
" the afflicted, out of their fits, knew nothing of what they 
did or said in them." 

Again, on a new session, six were arraigned, and all were 
convicted. John Willard had, as an officer, been employed 
to arrest the suspected witches. Perceiving the hypoc- 
risy, he declined the service. The afflicted immediately 
denounced him, and he was seized, convicted, and hanged. 

At the trial of George Burroughs, the bewitched per- 
sons pretended to be dumb. " Who hinders these wit- 
nesses," said Stoughton, " from giving their testimonies ?" 
" I suppose the devil," answered Burroughs. " How comes 
the devil," retorted the chief judge, " so loath to have anj'- 
testimony borne against you ?" and the question was effec- 



Bancroft] THE SALEM WITCHCRAFT. 239 

tive. Besides, he had given proofs of great, if not preter- 
natural, muscular strength. Cotton Mather calls the evi- 
dence " enough :" the jury gave a verdict of guilty. 

John Procter, who foresaw his doom, and knew from 
whom the danger came, sent an earnest petition, not to 
the governor and council, but to Cotton Mather and the 
ministers. Among the witnesses against him were some 
who had made no confessions till after torture. "They 
have already undone us in our estates, and that will not 
serve their turns without our innocent blood ;" and he 
begged for a trial in Boston, or, at least, for a change of 
magistrates. His entreaties were vain, as also his prayers, 
after condemnation, for a respite. 

Among the witnesses against Martha Carrier the mother 
saw her own children. Her two sons refused to perjure 
themselves till they had been tied neck and heels so long 
that the blood was ready to gush from them. The con- 
fession of her daughter, a child of seven years old, is still 
preserved. 

The aged Jacobs was condemned, in part, by the evi- 
dence of Margaret Jacobs, his grand-daughter. [She re- 
tracted her confession, but] the magistrates refused their 
belief, and, confining her for trial, proceeded to hang her 
grandfather. 

These five were condemned on the third and hanged on 
the nineteenth of August ; pregnancy reprieved Elizabeth 
Procter. To hang a minister as a witch was a novelty ; 
but Burroughs denied absolutely that there was, or could 
be, such a thing as Avitchcraft, in the current sense. This 
opinion wounded the self-love of the judges, for it made 
them the accusers and judicial murderers of the innocent. 
On the ladder Burroughs cleared his innocence by an ear- 
nest speech, repeating the Lord's prayer composedly and 
exactly, and with a fervency that astonished. Tears flowed 



240 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Bancroft 

to the ej-es of many ; it seemed as if the spectators would 
rise up to hinder the execution. Cotton Mather, on horse- 
back among the crowd, addressed the people, cavilling at 
the ordination of Burroughs, as though he had been no 
true minister; insisting on his guilt, and hinting that the 
devil could sometimes assume the appearance of an angel 
of light ; and the hanging proceeded. 

Meantime, the confessions of the witches began to be di- 
rected against the Anabaptists. Mary Osgood was dipped 
by the devil. The court still had work to do. On the 
ninth, six women were condemned ; and more convictions 
followed. Giles Cory, the octogenarian, seeing that all 
who denied guilt were convicted, refused to plead, and was 
condemned to be pressed to death. The horrid sentence, 
a barbarous usage of English law, never again followed in 
the colonies, was executed forthwith. 

On the twenty-second of September eight persons were 
led to the gallows. Of these Samuel Wardwell had con- 
fessed, and was safe ; but, from shame and penitence, he 
retracted his confession, and, speaking the truth boldly, 
he was hanged, not for witchcraft, but for denying witch- 
craft. . , . The chief judge was positive that all had been 
done rightly, and "was very impatient in hearing anything 
that looked another way." " There hang eight firebrands 
of hell," said Noyes, the minister of Salem, pointing to 
the bodies swinging on the gallows. 

Already twenty persons had been put to death for 
witchcraft; fifty-five had been tortured or terrified into 
penitent confessions. With accusations, confessions in- 
creased ; with confessions, new accusations. Even " the 
generation of the children of God" were in danger of 
" falling under that condemnation." The jails were full. 
One hundred and fifty prisoners awaited trial ; two 
hundred more were accused or suspected. It was also 



Bancroft] THE SALEM WITCHCRAFT. 2-11 

observed that no one of the condemned confessing \Yitcli- 
craft had been hanged. No one that confessed, and re- 
tracted a confession, had escaped either hanging or im- 
prisonment for trial. No one of the condemned who 
asserted innocence, even if one of the witnesses confessed 
perjury, or the foreman of the jury acknowledged the error 
of the verdict, escaped the gallows. Favoritism was shown 
in listening to accusations, which were turned aside from 
friends and partisans. If a man began a career as a witch- 
hunter, and, becoming convinced of the imposture, declined 
the service, he was accused and hanged. Persons accused, 
who had escaped from the jurisdiction in Massachusetts, 
were not demanded, as would have been done in case of 
acknowledged crime; so that the magistrates acted as 
if witch-law did not extend beyond their jurisdiction. 
Witnesses convicted of perjury were cautioned, and per- 
mitted still to swear away the lives of others. It was 
certain that people had been tempted to become accusers 
by promise of favor. Yet the zeal of Stoughton was un- 
abated, and the arbitrary court adjourned to the first 
Tuesday in November. 

[In the interval the colonial Assembly met. Kemonstrances were 
presented against the doings of the witch tribunal. There is no record 
of the discussions, but a convocation of ministers was ordered, the 
special court was abrogated, and a legal tribunal established. The 
meeting of this court was delayed till January of the following year. 
This interval of three months gave the people time to think.] 

When the court met at Salem, six women of Andover, 
at once renouncing their confessions, treated the witch- 
craft but as something so called, the bewildered but as 
" seemingly afflicted." A memorial of like tenor came 
from the inhabitants of Andover. 

Of the presentments, the grand jury dismissed more 
than half; and, if it found bills against twenty-six, the 
i.-i^ q 21 



242 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Bancroft 

trials did but show the feebleness of the testimony on 
which others had been condemned. The minds of the 
juries became enlightened before those of the judges. 
The same testimony was produced, and there, at Salem, 
with Stoughton on the bench, verdicts of acquittal fol- 
lowed : " Error died among its worshippers." Three had, 
for special reasons, been convicted : one was a wife, whose 
testimony had sent her husband to the gallows, and whose 
confession was now used against herself All were re- 
prieved, and soon set free. Eeluctant to yield, the party 
of superstition were resolved on one conviction. The 
victim selected was Sarah Daston, a woman of eighty 
years old, who for twenty years had enjoyed the undis- 
puted reputation of a witch ; if ever there were a witch 
in the world, she, it was said, was one. In the presence 
of a throng the trial went forward at Charlestown : there 
was more evidence against her than against any at Salem ; 
but the common mind was disenthralled, and asserted 
itself, thi-ough the jury, by a verdict of acquittal. 

[Cotton Mather endeavored to cover his confusion by getting up a 
case of witchcraft in his own parish, the imposture of which was ex- 
posed to ridicule by Robert Calef, an unlettered but intelligent man. 
Parris was indignantly driven from Salem. Others begged forgiveness.] 

Stoughton and Cotton Mather never repented. The 
former lived proud, unsatisfied, and unbeloved ; the latter 
attempted to persuade others and himself that he had not 
been specially active in the tragedy. His diary proves 
that he did not Avholly escape the rising impeachment 
from the monitor within ; and Cotton Mather, who had 
sought the foundation of faith in tales of wonders, him 
self " had temptations to atheism, and to the abandon- 
ment of all religion as a mere delusion." 

The common mind of New England was more wise. 
It never wavered in its faith ; more ready to receive every 

• 



Trumbull] THE TYRANT OF NEW ENGLAND. 243 

tale from the invisible world than to gaze on the universe 
without acknowledging an Infinite Intelligence. But, 
employing a cautious spirit of search, eliminating error, 
rejecting superstition as tending to cowardice and sub- 
mission, cherishing religion as the source of courage and 
the fountain of freedom, it refused henceforward to sepa- 
rate belief and reason. 



THE TYRANT OF NEW ENGLAND. 

BENJAMIN TRUMBULL. 

[The English colonies in America, with the exception of those of 
Virginia and the Carolinas, were instituted under conditions of marked 
liberality, and enjoyed a degree of religious and political freedom vin- 
known in Europe at that day. Small groups of colonists, far removed 
from European institutions, and struggling with the difficulties of an 
untamed nature, could not be expected to conform to the intricate 
regulations of the old nationalities which they had left, and they at 
once began to govern themselves on the republican principle, in ac- 
cordance with the simplicity of their conditions. Monarchy made 
itself felt most fully in Virginia and the Carolinas, yet even here 
provincial Assemblies were quickly established, and the rigidity of 
the earlier systems abated. Maryland and Pennsylvania were organ- 
ized under highly-liberal constitutions, while the New England colo- 
nies began their existence as provincial republics. 

This state of affairs long continued with but spasmodic interferences 
from England, and the spirit of republicanism had greatly developed 
in the American colonies ere any serious effort was made to deprive 
them of their liberties. The growth of free institutions had been 
much favored by the strong republican sentiment then prevailing in 
England, which resulted in the overthrow of monarchy and the for- 
mation of the Commonwealth. After the death of Cromwell, and 
the re-establishment of the monarchy, indications of a desire to restrict 
the liberties of the colonies, now flourishing and important, became 



244 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Trumbull 

manifest. Charles II. granted to his brother James, the Duke of 
York, the whole territory from the Connecticut River to the shores of 
the Delaware, which grant was quickly followed by the illegal seizure 
of New Amsterdam, which received the name of New York. 

The Dutch rule over this province had been to a considerable extent 
autocratic, and this was continued by the English governors, despite 
the protests of the people. In 1672, during a war between England 
and Holland, the city was recaptured by the Dutch, but was returned 
to the English on the conclusion of peace. The Dulce of York now 
obtained a new patent to confirm his title, and made Edmund Andros 
governor of the province. The rule of this governor was tyrannical. 
He levied taxes without asking the consent of the people, and refused 
them a representative Assembly. He attempted to extend his jurisdic- 
tion over New Jersey, and as far east as the Connecticut River, but 
failed in this. Under Thomas Dongan, the succeeding governor, a 
representative government was established in New York, through the 
advice of William Penn. 

With the accession of the Duke of York to the throne, under the 
title of James II., a vigorous effort to overthrow the liberties of the 
colonists was made. A direct tax was decreed, printing-presses were 
forbidden, and many arbitrary edicts passed. In 1686 the late tyran- 
nical governor of New York, now Sir Edmund Andros, was sent to 
Massachusetts, with a commission as governor of all the New England 
provinces. In 1688 his rule was extended over New York. He at 
once displayed the intention to act the tyrant, and immediately on his 
arrival in Boston, in December, 1686, demanded a surrender of all the 
charters of the colonies, while publishing edicts which annulled the 
existing liberties of the people. Of the several colonies, Connecticut 
alone refused to surrender its charter. To enforce his demand Andros 
marched to Hartford with a body of soldiers in October, 1687. The 
story of these events we quote from the antique " History of Con- 
necticut," by Benjamin Trumbull.] 

Mr. Dudley, while president of the commissioners, had 
written to the governor and company, advising them to 
resign the charter into the hands of his majesty, and 
promising to use his influence in favor of the colony. Mr. 
Dudley's commission was superseded by a commission to 
Sir Edmund Andros to be governor of New England. He 



Trumbull] THE TYRANT OF NEW ENGLAND. 245 

arrived at Boston on the 19th of December, 1636. The 
next day his commission was jiublished, and he took on 
him the administration of government. Soon after his 
arrival he wrote to the governor and company that he 
had a commission from his majesty to receive their charter, 
if they would resign it; and he pressed them, in obedience 
to the king, and as they would give him an opportunity 
to serve them, to resign it to his pleasure. . . . But the 
colony [of Connecticut] insisted on their charter rights, 
and on the promise of King James, as well as of his royal 
brother, to defend and secure them in the enjoj^ment of 
their privileges and estates, and would not surrender their 
charter to either. . . . 

The Assembly met, as usual, in October, and the govern- 
ment continued according to charter until the last of the 
month. About this time, Sir Edmund, with his suite, and 
more than sixty regular troops, came to Hartford, when 
the Assembly were sitting, demanded the charter, and de- 
clared the government under it to be dissolved. The As- 
sembly were extremely reluctant and slow with respect to 
any resolve to surrender the charter, or with respect to 
any motion to bring it forth. The tradition is that Gov- 
ernor Treat strongly represented the great expense and 
hardships of the colonists in planting the country, the 
blood and treasure which they had expended in defending 
it, both against the savages and foreigners; to what hard- 
ships and dangers he himself had been exposed for that 
purpose ; and that it was like giving up his life, now to 
surrender the patent and privileges so dearly bought and 
so long enjoyed. The important affair was debated and 
kept in suspense until the evening, when the charter was 
brought and laid upon the table, where the Assembly were 
sitting. By this time, gi'eat numbers of people were as- 
sembled, and men sufficiently bold to enterprise whatever 
1. 2\* 



246 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Trumbull 

might be necessary or exjDcdient. The lights were in 
stantly extinguished, and one Captain Wadsworth, of Hart- 
ford, in the most silent and secret manner, carried oif the 
charter, and secreted it in a large hollow tree, fronting the 
house of the Honorable Samuel Wj'Uys, then one of the 
magistrates of the colony. The people appeared all peace- 
able and orderly. The candies were officiously relighted, 
but the jjatent was gone, and no discovery could be made 
of it, or of the person who had conveyed it away. 

[This stirring scene, wliicli is told with more dramatic additions by 
later authors, unfortunately rests upon traditional evidence only, and 
is entirely unsupported by documentary testimony. "While it may 
have actually occurred, there is no positive proof that it did. The 
documents simply tell us that Sir Edmund assumed the government, 
and closed the colonial records with a statement of this fact, and the 
ominous word "Finis." It was, for the time being, "the end" of 
American liberty.] 

Sir Edmund began his government with the most flat- 
tering protestations of his regard to the public safety and 
happiness. He instructed the judges to administer justice, 
as far as might be consistent with the new regulations, 
according to the former laws and customs. It is, how- 
ever, well observed by Grovernor Hutchinson, that " Nero 
concealed his tyrannical disposition more years than Sir 
Edmund and his creatures did months." He soon laid a 
restraint upon the liberty of the press ; aud then one far 
more grievous upon marriage. . . . Magistrates on\j were 
allowed to join people in the bands of wedlock. The 
governor not only deprived the clergy of the perquisite 
from marriages, but soon suspended the laws for their 
support, and would not suifer any person to be obliged to 
pay anything to his minister. Nay, he menaced the 
people that, if they resisted his will, their meeting-houses 
should be taken from them, and that any person who 



I 



Trumbull] THE TYRANT OF NEW ENGLAND. 247 

should give twopence to a non-coDformist minister should 
be punished. 

The fees of all officers, under this new administra- 
tion, wei'e exorbitant. . . . Sir Edmund, without an As- 
sembly, nay, without a majority of his council, taxed the 
people at pleasure. He and Randolph, with four or five 
others of his creatures, who were sufficiently wicked to 
join with him in all his oppressive designs, managed the 
affairs of government as they pleased. But these were 
but the beginnings of oppression and sorrow. They were 
Roon greatly increased and moi'e extensively spread. . . . 

As the chai'ters were now either vacated, surrendered, 
or the government under them suspended, it was declared 
that the titles of the colonists to their lands were of no 
value. Sir Edmund declared that Indian deeds were no 
belter than "the scratch of a bear's paw." Not the 
fairest purchases and most ample conveyances from the 
natives, no dangers, disbursements, nor labors in cultivat- 
ing a wilderness and turning it into orchards, gardens, and 
pleasant fields, no grants by charter, nor by legislatures 
constituted by them, no declarations of preceding kings, 
nor of his then present majesty, promising them the quiet 
enjoyment of their houses and lands, nor fifty or sixty 
years' undisturbed possession, were pleas of any validity 
or consideration with Sir Edmund and his minions. The 
purchasers and cultivators, after fifty and sixty years' 
improvement, were obliged to take out patents for their 
estates. For these, in some instances, a fee of fifty pounds 
was demanded. . . . 

The governor, and a small number of his council, in the 
most arbitrary manner, fined and imprisoned numbers of 
the inhabitants of Massachusetts, and denied them the 
benefit of the act of habeas corpus. All town meetings 
were prohibited, except one in the month of May, for the 



248 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Trumbull 

election of town officers. . . . No person was suffered to 
go out of the country without leave from the governor, 
lest complaints should be carried to England against his 
administration. At the same time, he so well knew the 
temper and views of his royal master that he feared little 
from him, even though complaints should be carried over 
against him. Hence he and his dependants oppressed the 
people, and enriched themselves without restraint. 

[Despite his eftbrts, comphiints and petitions made their way to 
England; yet they proved of little effect upon the king.] 

In the reign of James II., petitions so reasonable and 
just could not be heard. The prince at home, and his 
officers abroad, like greedy harpies, prej'ed upon the people 
without control. Eandolph was not ashamed to make his 
boast, in his letters, with respect to Governor Andros and 
his council, "that they were as arbitrary as the Great 
Turk." All New England groaned under their oppression. 
The heaviest share of it, however, fell upon the inhabi- 
tants of Massachusetts and New Plymouth. Connecticut 
had been less obnoxious to government than Massachu 
setts, and, as it was further removed from the seat of 
government, was less under the notice and influence of 
those oppressors. . . . 

All the motives to great actions, to industry, economy, 
enterprise, wealth, and population, were in a manner anni- 
hilated. A general inactivity and languishment pervaded 
the whole public body. Liberty, property, and everj'thing 
which ought to be dear to men, every day grew more 
and more insecure. The colonies were in a state of gen- 
eral desjDondency with respect to the restoration of their 
privileges, and the truth of that divine maxim, " When 
the wicked beareth rule the people mourn," was, in a 
striking manner, everywhere exemplified. 



Tkumbull] the tyrant OF NEW ENGLAND. 249 

[Fortunately, this grinding tyranny was not of long continuance. 
Early in 1689 tidings reached Boston that James II. was no longer 
king: in November, 1688, William of Orange had landed in Eng- 
land and driven the tyrant from his throne. The Bostonians at once 
rebelled against Andros. His tyranny was denounced by the magis- 
trates, and he, with several of his creatures, was seized and imprisoned. 
Andros twice attempted to escape from confinement, and once got as 
far as Ehode Island, but was captured and brought back. In July he 
was sent to England, where he was acquitted without trial. And so 
ended the most prominent early effort to take away the liberties of the 
American people. Andros was subsequently (in 1G92) made governor 
of Virginia. Here, however, his rule was less arbitrary, and he be- 
came popular with the planters. 

The traditions of early Connecticut present one more scene of great 
dramatic interest, in which the spirit of liberty of the people, and the 
energy of Captain Wadsworth, were manifested in the same deter- 
mined manner as in the incident described. This occurred in 1693, 
during King William's War. An account of it may be quoted from 
Trumbull.] 

Colonel Benjamin Fletcher, governor of New York, 
who had arrived at the seat of his government August 
29, 1692, had received a commission entirely inconsistent 
with the charter rights and safety of the colonies. He 
was vested with plenary powers of commanding the whole 
militia of Connecticut and the neighboi'ing provinces. He 
insisted on the command of the militia of Connecticut. 
As this was expressl}^ given to the colony, by charter, the 
legislature would not submit to his requisition. 

[A special Assembly met, and drew up a petition to the king, rep- 
resenting the true state of affairs in the colony, and the disadvan- 
tage and danger which might result from giving the command of the 
militia to the governor of another province.] 

The colony wished to serve his majesty's interest, and 
as far as possible, consistently with their chartered rights, 
to maintain a ccood understandinfr with Governor Fletcher. 



250 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Trumbull 

William Pitkin, Esquire, was therefore sent to New York, 
to treat and make terms with him respecting the militia, 
until his majesty's pleasure should be further known. 
But no terms could be made with him short of an explicit 
submission of the militia to his command. 

On the 26th of October he came to Hartford, while the 
Assembly were sitting, and, in his majesty's name, de- 
manded their submission of the militia to his command, as 
they would answer it to his majest}^, and that they would 
give him a speedy answer in two words, Yes, or No. . . . 
He ordered the militia of Hartford under arms, that he 
might beat up for volunteers. It was judged expedient to 
call the train-bands of Hartford together ; but the Assem- 
bly insisted that the command of the militia was expressly 
vested, b}" charter, in the governor and company, and that 
they could by no means, consistently with their just rights 
and the common safety, resign it into any other hands. 

[In response Governor Fletcher made the dechiration that he had no 
design upon the civil rights of the colonists, and offered the command 
of the militia to Governor Treat, under his commission.] 

The Assembly, nevertheless, would not give up the com- 
mand of the militia ; nor would Governor Treat receive a 
commission from Colonel Fletcher. 

The train-bands of Hartford assembled, and, as the tra- 
dition is, while Captain Wadsworth, the senior ofHeer, was 
walking in front of the companies and exercising the sol- 
diers. Colonel Fletcher ordered his commission and instruc- 
tions to be read. Captain Wadsworth instantly commanded, 
'• Beat the drums ;" and there was such a roaring of them 
that nothing else could be heard. Colonel Fletcher com- 
manded silence. But no sooner had Bayai'd made an at- 
tempt to read again, than Wadsworth commands, ''Drum, 
drum, I say." The drummers understood their business, 



* 



Smith] THE LEISLER REVOLT IN NEW YORK. 251 

and instantly beat up with all the art and life of which 
they were masters. " Silence, silence," says the colonel. 
No sooner was there a pause, than Wadsworth speaks with 
great earnestness, " Drum, drum, I say ;" and, turning to 
his excellency, said, "If I am interrupted again I will 
make the sun shine through you in a moment." He spoke 
with such energy in his voice and meaning in his counte- 
nance that no further attempts were made to read or 
enlist men. Such numbers of people collected together, 
and their spirits appeared so high, that the governor and 
his suite judged it expedient soon to leave the town and 
return to New York. 



THE LEISLER REVOLT IN NEW YORK. 

WILLIAM SMITH. 

[The news of the accession of William of Orange to the English 
throne produced in New York an effect very similar to that which it 
produced in New England, — an uprising of the people against their 
tyrannical governor. But the revolt here against the lieutenant of 
Andros grew into a rebellion against the constituted authorities, of 
sufficient interest to demand special consideration. Another impor- 
tant event of the same period was the massacre of the inhabitants of 
Schenectady by a party of French and Indians, — a far-off result of the 
war then raging in Europe between the French and English. We 
extract a description of these events from William Smith's " History 
of New Tori?," one of the oldest of American historical wori-cs, as it 
was originally published in 1756.] 

"While these things were transacting in Canada [the 
massacre of the Fx*ench on the island of Montreal by the 
Iroquois], a scene of the greatest importance was opening 
at New York. A general dissatisfaction to the govern- 
ment prevailed among the people. Papists began to settle 



252 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Smith 

in the colony undei' the smiles of the governor. The col- 
lector of the revenues, and several principal officers, threw 
off the mask, and openly avowed their attachment to the 
doctrines of Eome. A Latin school was set up, and the 
teacher strongly suspected for a Jesuit. The people of 
Long Island, who were disappointed in their expectation 
of mighty boons, promised by the governor on bis arrival, 
were become his personal enemies; and, in a word, the 
whole body of the people trembled for the Protestant 
cause. Here the leaven of opposition first began to work. 
Their intelligence from England, of the designs there in 
favor of the Prince of Oi-ange, blew up the coals of dis- 
content, and elevated the hopes of the disaffected. But 
no man dared to spring in action till after the ruj^ture in 
Boston. Sir Edmund Andros, who was perfectly devoted 
to the arbitrary measures of King James, by his tyranny 
in New England had drawn upon himself the universal 
odium of the people, animated Avith the love of liberty and 
in the defence of it resolute and courageous ; and, there- 
fore, when they could no longer endure his despotic rule, 
they seized and imprisoned him, and afterwards sent him 
to England. The government, in the mean time, was 
vested in the hands of a committee for the safety of the 
people, of which Mr. Bradstreet was chosen president. 
Upon the news of this event, several captains of our 
militia convened themselves to concert measures in favor 
of the Prince of Orange. Among these, Jacob Leisler was 
the most active. He was a man in tolerable esteem among 
the people, and of a moderate fortune, but destitute of 
every qualification necessary for the enterprise. Milborne, 
his son-in-law, an Englishman, directed all his councils, 
while Leisler as absolutely influenced the other officers. 

The first thing they contrived was to sei::e the garrison 
in New York ; and the custom, at that time, of guarding 



Smith] THE LEISLER REVOLT IN NEW YORK. 253 

it every night b}' the militia, gave Leisler a fine opportu- 
nity of executing the design. He entered it with forty- 
nine men, and determined to hold it till the whole militia 
should join him. Colonel Dongan, who was about to leave 
the province, then lay embarked in the bay, having a 
little before resigned the government to Francis Nichol- 
son, the lieutenant-governor. The council, civil officers, 
and magistrates of the city were against Leisler, and 
therefore many of his friends were at first fearful of 
openly espousing a cause disapproved by the gentlemen 
of figure. For this reason, Leisler's first declaration in 
favor of the Prince of Orange was subscribed only by 
a few, among several companies of the trained bands. 
While the people for four days successively were in 
the utmost perplexity to determine what part to choose, 
being solicited by Leisler on the one hand and threatened 
b}^ the lieutenant-governor on the other, the town was 
alarmed with a report that three ships were coming up 
with orders from the Prince of Orange. This falsehood 
was veiy seasonably propagated to serve the intei'est of 
Leisler; for on that day, the 3d of June, 1689, his party 
was augmented by the addition of six captains and four 
hundred men in New York, and a company of seventy 
men from East Chester, who all subscribed a second dec- 
laration, mutually covenanting to hold the fort for the 
prince. Colonel Dongan continued till this time in the 
harbor, waiting the issue of these commotions ; and Nich- 
olson's party, being now unable to contend with their 
opponents, were totally dispersed, the lieutenant-governor 
himself absconding, the very night after the last declara- 
tion was signed. 

[Leisler at once sent to King William an account of liis proceed- 
ings, but Lieutenant-Governor Nicholson had previously reached 
England, and had falsely represented the late actions to Leisler's 
I. 22 



I 



254 AM Eli WAX HISTORY. [Smith 

pi-ejudice. The authorities of the city, being opposed to the new 
party in power, retired to Albany.] 

Except the eastern inhabitants of Long Island, all the 
southern part of the colony cheerfully submitted to Leis- 
ler's command. The principal freeholders, however, by 
their respectful letters, gave him hopes of their submis- 
sion, and thereby prevented his betaking himself to arms, 
while they were privately soliciting the colony of Con- 
necticut to take them under its jurisdiction. They had 
indeed no aversion to Leisler's authority in favor of any 
other party in the province, but were willing to be incor- 
porated with a people from whence they had originally 
colonized ; and, therefore, as soon as Connecticut declined 
their request, they openly appeared to be advocates for 
Leisler. . . . The people of Albany, in the mean time, 
were determined to hold the garrison and city for King 
William, independent of Leisler, and on the 26th of Oc- 
tober, which was before the packet arrived from Lord 
Nottingham, formed themselves into a convention for that 
purpose. . . . 

Taking it for granted that Leisler at New York, and 
the convention at Albany, were equally affected to the 
revolution, nothing could be more egregiously foolish 
than the conduct of both parties, who, by their intestine 
divisions, threw the province into convulsions and sowed 
the seeds of mutual hatred and animosity, which, for a 
long time after, greatly embarrassed the public affairs 
of the colony. When Albany declared for the Prince of 
Orange, there was nothing else that Leisler could properly 
require ; and, rather than sacrifice the public peace of the 
province to the trifling honor of resisting a man who had 
no evil designs, Albany ought in prudence to have deliv- 
ered the garrison into his hands, till the king's definitive 
orders should arrive. But while Leisler, on the one hand. 



Smith] THE LEISLER REVOLT IN NEW YORK. 255 

was inebriated Avith his new-gotten power, so, on the 
other, Baj^ard, Courtland, Schuyler, and others, could not 
brook a submission to the authority of a man mean in his 
abilities and inferior in his degree. Animated by these 
principles, both parties prepared, the one to reduce, if I 
may use the expression, the other to retain, the garrison 
of Albany. . . . 

Jacob Milborne was commissioned for the reduction of 
Albany. Upon his ari'ival there, a great number of the in- 
habitants armed themselves and repaired to the fort, then 
commanded by Mr. Schuyler, while many others followed 
the other members of the convention to a conference with 
him at the city hall. Milborne, to proselyte the crowd, 
declaimed much against King James, Popery, and arbi- 
trary power; but his oratory was lost upon the hearers, 
who, after several meetings, still adhered to the consren- 
tion. Milborne then advanced with a few men up to the 
fort, and Mr. Schuyler had the utmost difficulty to pre\ent 
both his own men and the Mohawks, who were then in 
Albany, and perfectly devoted to his service, from firing 
upon Milborne's party, which consisted of an inconsid- 
erable number. In these circumstances, he [Milborne] 
thought proper to retreat, and soon after departed from 
Albany. In the spring he commanded another party upon 
the same errand, and the distress of the country upon 
an Indian irruption gave him all the desii-ed success. No 
sooner was he possessed of the garrison than most of 
the j)rincipal members of the convention absconded. Upon 
which their effects were arbitrarily seized and confiscated, 
which so highly exasperated the sufferers that their pos- 
terity, to this day, cannot speak of these ti-oubles with- 
out the bitterest invectives against Leisler and all his 
adherents. 

[During these proceedings war broke out between the French and 



256 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Smith 

the English. A French fleet was sent over, with the design of taking 
New York ; but the distressed condition of the colony in Canada de- 
feated this project. Efforts were then made to bring over the Iroquois 
Indians to the French side.] 

Among other measures to detach the Five Nations 
from the British interest and raise the depressed spirit of 
the Canadians, the Count de Frontenac thought proper 
to send out several parties against the English colonies. 
D'Aillebout, De Mantel, and Le Moyne commanded that 
against New York, consisting of about two hundred French 
and some Caghnuaga Indians, who, being proselytes from 
the Mohawks, were perfectly acquainted with that country. 
Their orders were, in general, to attack New York ; but, 
pursuing the advice of the Indians, they resolved, instead 
of Albany, to surprise Schenectady, a village seventeen 
miles northwest from it, and about the same distance 
from the Mohawks. The people of Schenectady, though 
they had been informed of the designs of the enemy, were 
in the greatest security, judging it impracticable for any 
men to march several hundred miles, in the depth of 
winter, through the snow, bearing their provisions on their 
backs. Besides, the village was in as much confusion as 
the rest of the province, the oflScers who were posted 
there being unable to preserve a regular watch, or any 
kind of military order. . . . 

After two-and-twenty days' march, the enemy fell in 
with Schenectady on the 8th of February [1690], and 
were reduced to such straits that they had thoughts of 
surrendering themselves prisoners of war. But their 
scouts, who were a day or two in the village entirely un- 
suspected, returned with such encouraging accounts of the 
absolute security of the people that the enemy determined 
on the attack. They entered on Saturday night about 
eleven o'clock, at the gates, which were found unshut, and, 



Smith] THE LEISLER REVOLT IN NEW YORK. 257 

that every house might be invested at the same time, 
divided into small parties of six or seven men. The in- 
habitants were in a profound sleep, and unalarmed, till 
their doors were broken open. Never were people in a 
more wretched consternation. Before they were risen 
from their beds, the enemy entered their houses and began 
the perpetration of the most inhuman barbarities. No 
tongue, says Colonel Schuyler, can express the cruelties 
that were committed. The whole village was instantly in 
a blaze. Women with child were ripped open, and their 
infants cast into the flames, or dashed against the posts of 
the doors. Sixty persons perished in the massaci'e, and 
twenty-seven were carried into captivity. The rest fled 
naked towards Albany, through a deep snow that fell that 
very night in a terrible storm ; and twenty-five of these 
fugitives lost their limbs in the flight, through the severity 
of the frost. The news of this dreadful tragedy reached 
Albany about break of day, and universal dread seized the 
inhabitants of that city, the enemy being reported to be 
one thousand four hundred strong. A party of horse was 
immediately despatched to Schenectady, and a few Mo- 
hawks, then in the town, fearful of being intercepted, were 
with difficulty sent to apprise their own castles. 

The Mohawks were unacquainted with this bloody scene 
till two days after it happened, our messengers being 
scarce able to travel through the great depth of snow. 
The enemy, in the mean time, pillaged the town of Sche- 
nectady till noon the next day, and then went ofl" with 
their plunder and about forty of their best horses. The 
rest, with all the cattle they could find, lay slaughtered 
in the streets. 

[This outrage was to some extent revenged by the Mohawks, who 
pursued and killed a number of the enemy, while during the year the 
Canadians met with other losses at the hands of the Iroquois. During 
i.—r 22* 



258 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Smith 

this j-ear, also, Sir William Phipps made an expedition against Que- 
bec, with a fleet of thirty-two sail. His demand for a surrender was 
contemned by De Frontenac, and he was quickly repulsed, with loss. 
Shortly afterwards. Colonel Henry Sloughter, the newly-appointed 
governor of the province, arrived at New York.] 

If Leislei' had delivered the garrison to Colonel Slough- 
ter, as he ought to have done, upon his first landing, 
besides extinguishing, in a degree, the animosities then 
subsisting, he would, doubtless, have attracted the favor- 
able notice both of the governor and the crown. But, 
being a weak man, he was so intoxicated with the love of 
power that, though he had been well informed of Slough- 
ter's appointment to the government, he not only shut 
himself up in the fort with Bayard and Nichols, whom he 
had, before that time, imprisoned, but refused to deliver 
them up or to surrender the garrison. From this moment 
he lost all credit with the governor, who joined the other 
party against him. On the second demand of the fort, 
Milborne and De Lanoj^ came out, under pretence of con- 
ferring with his excellency, but in reality to discover his 
designs. Sloughter, who considered them as rebels, threw 
them both into jail. Leislcr, upon this event, thought 
proper to abandon the fort, which Colonel Sloughter im- 
mediately entered. Bayard and Nichols were now re- 
leased from their confinement, and sworn of the privy 
council. Leisler, having thus ruined his cause, was appre- 
hended, with many of his adherents, and a commission of 
oyer and terminer issued to Sir Thomas Robinson, Colonel 
Smith, and others, for their trials. 

In vain did they plead the merit of their zeal for King 
William, since they had so lately opposed his governor. 
Leisler, in particular, endeavored to justify his conduct, 
insisting that Lord Nottingham's letter entitled him to 
act in the quality of lieutenant-governor. Whether it 



Smith] THE LEISLER REVOLT IN NEW FORK. 259 

was through ignorance or sj^cophanej, I know not, but 
the judges, instead of pronouncing their own sentiments 
upon this part of the prisoner's defence, referred it to the 
governor and council, prajdng their opinion whether that 
lettex', " or any other letters, or papers, in the packet from 
Whitehall, can be understood or interpreted to be and 
contain any power or direction to Captain Leisler to take 
the government of this province upon himself, or that the 
administration thereof be holden good in law." The an- 
swer was, as might have been expected, in the negative ; 
and Leisler and his son [-in-law] were condemned to death 
for high treason. 

[Many of Leisler's adherents immediately fled to the other prov- 
inces, in fear of being apprehended. It may be remarked here that 
later historians relate that the first demand on Leisler to surrender 
was made by Richard Ingoldsby, who arrived before Colonel Slough- 
ter, and announced his appointment. His demand was peremptorily 
made, and was refused. On Sloughter's arrival Ingoldsby was again 
sent to demand a surrender, Leisler's messengers to the governor being 
detained. Leisler hesitated for a while, but the next day personally 
surrendered the fort.] 

Colonel Sloughter proposed, immediately after the ses- 
sion [of the Assembly], to set out to Albany ; but, as 
Leisler's party were enraged at his imprisonment and 
the late sentence against him, his enemies were afraid 
new troubles would spring up in the absence of the gov- 
ernor: for this reason, both the Assembly and council 
advised that the prisoners should be immediately exe- 
cuted. Sloughter, who had no inclination to favor them 
in this request, chose rather to delay such a violent step, 
being fearful of cutting off two men who had vigorously 
appeared for the king, and so signally contributed to the 
revolution. Nothing could be more disagreeable to their 
enemies, whose interest was deeply concerned in their 



260 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell 

destruction. And, therefore, -when no other measures 
could prevail with the governor, tradition informs us 
that a sumptuous feast was prepared, to which Colonel 
Sloughter was invited. When his excellency's reason 
was drowned in his cups, the entreaties of the company 
prevailed with him to sign the death-warrant, and befoi'e 
he recovered his senses the prisoners were executed. 

[Sloughter died suddenly shortly afterwards. Leisler's son made 
complaint to the king, but the execution was sustained by the author- 
ities in England. Afterwards the attainder of treason was removed, 
and the estates of Leisler and Milborne were restored to their families. 
The bodies of the victims were taken up, and interred with great 
pomp in the old Dutch church of New York city.] 



THE BACON REBELLION. 

CHARLES CAMPBELL. 

[The tyranny that was instituted by Andros in New England was 
paralleled by despotic proceedings in some of the other colonies. In 
Virginia these led to a rebellion which was for a time successful. Un- 
like the inhabitants of the more northerly colonies, the Virginians 
were stanch advocates of the Church of England and partisans of 
the king, and were intolerant alike of religious and democratic here- 
sies. When Charles I. was executed the planters of Virginia declared 
for his son, and only submitted under show of force to the Common- 
wealth. They gladly welcomed Charles II. to the throne, and accepted 
with acclamation a royal governor, Sir William Berkley. It was not 
long, however, ere they found reason for a change of opinion. Des- 
potic measures were put in force, the Assembly, instead of being re- 
elected every two years, was kept permanently in session, and the 
inhabitants became the prey of venal office-holders. Commercial laws 
were instituted which bore severely upon the planters. Tobacco could 
be sent to none but English ports, and every tobacco-laden ship had to 
pay a heavy duty before leaving Virginia, and another on reaching 



Campbell] THE BACON REBELLION. 261 

England. Berkley had the true composition of a tyrant, as is shown 
in his memorable utterance, " I thank God there are no free schools, 
nor printing, and I hope we shall not have these hundred years ; for 
learning has brought disobedience into the world, and printing has 
divulged them and libels against the best governments. God keep us 
from both !" 

To the evils above mentioned were added a series of Indian depreda- 
tions, which grew in extent till more than three hundred of the set- 
tlers had been killed. The government showed little disposition to 
repress these savage outrages, and the people grew exasperated. At 
this juncture a young man named Nathaniel Bacon came forward as a 
leader, and the people readily supported him in what soon assumed the 
proportions of a rebellion against the constituted authorities. The 
story of this outbreak is well told in Campbell's " History of Virginia," 
from which we select its leading particulars.] 

" About the year 1675," says an old writer, " appeared 
three prodigies in that country, which, from the attending 
disasters, were looked upon as ominous presages. The one 
was a large comet, every evening for a week or more at 
southwest, thirty-five degrees high, streaming like a horse- 
tail westward, until it reached (almost) the horizon, and 
setting toward the northwest. Another was flights of 
wild pigeons, in breadth nigh a quarter of the mid-hemi- 
sphere, and of their length was no visible end; whose 
weights broke down the limbs of large trees whereon 
these rested at nights, of which the fowlers shot abun- 
dance, and ate them ; this sight put the old planters under 
the more portentous apprehensions because the like was 
seen (as they said) in the year 1644, when the Indians 
committed the last massacre ; but not after, until that 
present year, 1675. The third strange phenomenon was 
swarms of flies about an inch long, and big as the top of 
a man's little finger, rising out of spigot-holes in the earth, 
which ate the new-sprouted leaves from the tops of the 
trees, without other harm, and in a month left us." 



262 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell 

[These prodigies undoubtedly appeared to the superstitious inhab- 
itants as omens of the disastei-s which at this time fell upon them in 
murdering incursions of the Indians. A large body of men proceeded 
against the Susquehannocks, whom they charged with these outrages. 
But the violent measures which they adopted only inflamed the pas- 
sions of the savages, who at once broke into open hostilities.] 

At the falls of the James the savages had slain a ser- 
vant of Nathaniel Bacon, Jr., and his overseer, to whom 
he was much attached. This was not the place of Bacon's 
residence : Bacon Quarter Branch, in the suburbs of Rich- 
mond, probably indicates the scene of the murder. Bacon 
himself resided at Curies, in Henrico County, on the lower 
James River. It is said that when he heard of the catas- 
trophe he vowed vengeance. In that time of panic, the 
more exposed and defenceless families, abandoning their 
homes, took shelter together in houses, where they forti- 
fied themselves with palisades and redoubts. Neighbors, 
banding together, passed in co-operating parties from plan- 
tation to plantation, taking arms with them into the fields 
where they laboi-ed, and posting sentinels to give warning 
of the approach of the insidious foe. No man ventured 
out of doors unarmed. Even Jamestown was in danger. 
The red men, stealing with furtive glance through the shade 
of the forest, the noiseless tread of the moccasin scarce 
stirring a leaf, prowled around like panthers in quest of 
prey. At length the people at the head of the James 
and the York, having in vain petitioned the governor for 
protection, alarmed at the slaughter of their neighbors, 
often murdered with every circumstance of barbarity, rose 
tumultuously in self-defence, to the number of three hun- 
dred men, including most, if not all the officers, civil and 
military, and chose Nathaniel Bacon, Jr., for their leader. 
According to another authorit}', Bacon, before the murder 
of his overseer and servant, had been refused the commis- 



Campbell] THE BACON REBELLION. 263 

ision, and bad sworn that upon the next murder he should 
hear of he would march against the Indians, " commission 
or no commission." . . . 

Bacon had been living in the colony somewhat less than 
three years, having settled at Curies, on the lower James, 
in the midst of those people who were the greatest suffer- 
ers from the depredations of the Indians, and he himself 
had frequently felt the effects of their inroads. ... At the 
breaking out of these disturbances he was a member of 
the council. He was gifted with a graceful person, great 
abilities, and a powerful elocution, and was the most ac- 
complished man in Virginia ; his courage and resolution 
were not to be daunted, and his affability, hospitality, and 
benevolence commanded a wide popularity throughout the 
colony. 

The men who had jDut themselves under Bacon's com- 
mand made preparations for marching against the Indians, 
but in the mean time sent again to obtain from the gov- 
ernor a commission of general for Bacon, with authority 
to lead out his followers, at their own expense, against the 
enemy. He then stood so high in the council, and the ex- 
igency of the case was so pressing, that Sir William Berk- 
ley, thinking it imprudent to return an absolute refusal, 
concluded to temporize. Some of the leading men about 
him, it was believed, took occasion to foment the differ- 
ence between him and Bacon, envying a rising luminar}' 
that threatened to eclipse them. This conduct is like that 
of some of the leading men in Virginia who, one hundred 
years later, compelled Patrick Henry to resign his post in 
the army. 

Sir William Berkley sent his evasive reply to the ap- 
plication for a commission, by some of his friends, and 
instructed them to persuade Bacon to disband his forces. 
He refused to comply with this request, and, having in 



264 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell 

twenty days mustered five hundred men, marched to the 
falls of the James. Thereupon the governor, on the 29th 
day of May, 1676, issued a proclamation declaring all such 
as should fail to return within a certain time rebels. 
Bacon likewise issued a declaration, setting forth the 
public dangers and grievances, but taking no notice of 
the governor's proclamation. Upon this the men of 
property, fearful of a confiscation, deserted Bacon and 
returned home ; but he proceeded with fifty-seven men. 
. . . The movement was revolutionary, — a miniature proto- 
type of the revolution of 1688 in England, and of 1776 in 
America. But Bacon, as before mentioned, with a small 
body of men proceeded into the wilderness, up the river, 
his jDrovisions being nearly exhausted before he discovered 
the Indians. At length a tribe of friendly Mannakius were 
found intrenched within a palisaded fort on the further 
side of a branch of the James. Bacon endeavoring to 
procure provisions from them and offering compensation, 
they put him off with delusive promises till the third day, 
when the whites had eaten their last morsel. They now 
waded up to the shoulder across the branch to the fort, 
again soliciting provisions and tendering payment. In 
the evening one of Bacon's men was killed by a shot from 
that side of the branch which they had left, and, this 
giving rise to a suspicion of collusion with Sir William 
Berkley and treachery, Bacon stormed the fort, burnt it 
and the cabins, blew up their magazine of arms and gun- 
powder, and, with a loss of only three of his own part}", 
put to death one hundred and fifty Indians. It is difficult 
to credit, impossible to justify, this massacre. . . . Bacon 
with his followers returned to their homes, and he was 
shortly after elected one of the burgesses for the County 
of Henrico. . . . Bacon, upon being elected, going down 
the James Eiver with a party of his friends, was met by 



Campbell] THE BACON REBELLION. 265 

an armed vessel, ordered on board of her, and arrested by 
Major Howe, High Sheriff of James City, who conveyed 
him to the governor at that place, by whom he was ac- 
costed thus : " Mr. Bacon, you have forgot to be a gentle- 
man." He replied, " No, may it please your honor." The 
governor said, " Then I'll take your parole;" which he ac- 
cordingly did, and gave him his liberty ; but a number 
of his companions, who had been arrested with him, were 
still kept in irons. 

On the 5th day of June, 1676, the members of the new 
Assembly, whose names are not recorded, met in the 
chamber over the general court, and, having chosen a 
speaker, the governor sent for them down, and addressed 
them in a brief abrupt speech on the Indian disturbances, 
and, in allusion to the chiefs who had been slain, exclaimed, 
" If they had killed my grandfather and my grandmother, 
my father and mother, and all my friends, yet if they had 
come to treat of peace they ought to have gone in peace." 
After a short interval, he again rose, and said, " If there be 
joy in the presence of the angels over one sinner that re- 
penteth, there is joy now, for we have a penitent sinner 
come before us. Call Mr. Bacon." Bacon, appearing, was 
compelled upon one knee, at the bar of the house, to con- 
fess his offence, and beg pardon of God, the king, and 
governor. 

. . . When Bacon had made his acknowledgment, the 
governor exclaimed, " God forgive you, I forgive you ;" 
repeating the words thrice. Colonel Cole, of the council, 
added, " and all that were with him." " Yea," echoed the 
governor, "and all that were with him." Sir William 
Berkley, starting up from his chair for the third time, ex- 
claimed, " Mr. Bacon, if you will live civilly but till next 
quarter court, I'll promise to restore you again to your 
place there" (pointing with his hand to Mr. Bacon's seat), 
1.— M 23 



266 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell 

he having, as has been already mentioned, been of the 
council before those troubles, and having been deposed by 
the governor's proclamation. But, instead of being obliged 
to wait till the quarter court. Bacon was restored to his 
seat on that very day ; and intelligence of it was hailed 
with joyful acclamations by the people in Jamestown. 
This took place on Saturday. Bacon was also promised a 
commission to go out against the Indians, to be delivered 
to him on the Monday following. But, being delayed or 
disappointed, a few days after (the Assembly being en- 
gaged in devising measures against the Indians) he escaped 
fi'om Jamestown. He conceived the governor's pretended 
generosity to be only a lure to keep him out of his seat 
in the house of burgesses, and to quiet the people of the 
upper country, who were hastening down to Jamestown 
to avenge all wrongs done him or his friends. . . . 

In a short time the governor, seeing all quiet, issued 
secret warrants to seize him again, intending probably to 
raise the militia, and thus prevent a rescue. 

Within three or four days after Bacon's escape, news 
reached James City that he was some thirty miles above, 
on the James Eiver, at the head of four hundi'ed men. 
Sir William Berkley summoned the York train-bands to 
defend Jamestown, but only one hundred obeyed the sum- 
mons, and they arrived too late, and one-half of them were 
favorable to Bacon. Expresses almost hourly brought 
tidings of his approach, and in less than four days he 
marched into Jamestown unresisted, at two o'clock p.m., 
and drew up his force (now amounting to six hundred 
men), horse and foot, in battle-array on the green in front 
of the State-house, and within gunshot. In half an hour 
the drum beat, as was the custom, for the Assembly to 
meet, and in less than thirty minutes Bacon advanced, 
with a file of fusileers on either hand, near to the corner 



Campbell] THE BACON REBELLION. 267 

of the State-house, where he was met by the governor and 
council. Sir William Berkle}', dramatically baring his 
breast, cried out, " Here ! shoot me — 'fore God, fair mark ; 
shoot!" frequently repeating the words. Bacon replied, 
" No, may it please your honor, we will not hurt a hair of 
your head, nor of any other man's ; we are come for a 
commission to save our lives from the Indians, which you 
have so often promised, and now we will have it before we 
go." Bacon was walking to and fro between the tiles of 
his men, holding his left arm akimbo, and gesticulating 
violently with his right, he and the governor both like 
men distracted. In a few moments Sir William withdrew 
to his private apartment at the other end of the state- 
house, the council accompanying him. Bacon followed, 
frequently hurrying his hand from his sword-hilt to his 
hat ; and after him came a detachment of fusileers, who, 
with their guns cocked and presented at a window of the 
Assembly chamber, filled with faces, repeated in menacing 
tone, '■ We will have it, we will have it," for half a minute, 
when a well-known burgess, waving his handkerchief out 
at the window, exclaimed, three or four times, " You shall 
have it, you shall have it;" when, uncocking their guns, 
they rested them on the ground, and stood still, till Bacon 
returning, they rejoined the main body. It was said that 
Bacon had beforehand directed his men to fii'e in case he 
should draw his sword. In about an hour after Bacon re- 
entered the Assembly chamber and demanded a commis 
sion authorizing him to march out against the Indians. 

The Assembly went on to provide for the Indian war, 
and made Nathaniel Bacon, Jr., general and commander- 
in-chief, which was ratified by the governor and council. 
An act was also passed indemnifying Bacon and his party 
for their violent acts ; and a highly-applausive letter was 



268 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell 

prepared, justifying Bacon's designs and proceedings, ad- 
dressed to the king and subscribed by the governor, council, 
and Assembly. Sir William Berkley at the same time com- 
municated to the house a letter addressed to his majesty, 
saying, " I have above thirty years governed the most 
flourishing country the sun ever shone over, but am now 
encompassed with rebellion like waters, in every respect 
like that of Masaniello, except their leader." 

[The new general, who found himself strongly supported by the 
Assembly and the colonists, at once proceeded with energy to fulfil 
the duties of his position.] 

His vigorous measures at once restored confidence to the 
planters, and they resumed their occupations. Bacon, at 
the head of a thousand men, marched against the Pamun- 
kics, killing many and destroying their towns. Mean- 
while the people of Gloucester, the most populous and 
loyal county, having been disarmed by Bacon, petitioned 
the governor for protection against the savages. Reani- 
mated by this petition, he again p)i'Oclaimed Bacon a rebel 
and a traitor, and hastened over to Gloucester. Summon- 
ing the train-bands of that county and Middlesex, to the 
number of twelve hundred men, he proposed to them to 
pursue and put down the rebel Bacon, — when the whole 
assembly unanimously shouted, " Bacon ! Bacon ! Bacon !" 
and withdrew from the field, still repeating the name of 
that popular leader, the Patrick Henry of his day, and 
leaving the aged cavalier governor and his attendants to 
themselves. The issue was now fairly joined between the 
people and the governor. . . . 

Bacon, before he reached the head of York River, hear- 
ing from Lawrence and Drumraond of the governor's 
movements, exclaimed, that " it vexed him to the heart 
that, while he was hunting wolves which were destrojnng 
innocent lambs, the governor and those with him should 



Campbell] THE BACON REBELLION. 269 

pursue him in the rear with full cry ; and that he was 
like corn between two millstones, which would grind him 
to powder if he didn't look to it." He marched imme- 
diately back against the governor, who, finding himself 
abandoned, again, on the twenty-ninth of July, jjroclaimed 
Bacon a rebel, and made his escape, with a few friends, 
down* York River and across the Chesapeake Bay to 
Accomac, on the Eastern Shore. 

[A series of events of secondary importance succeeded, which we 
cannot particularize. It will suffice to say that the movement was 
diverted more and more from an expedition against the Indians to a 
civil war, in which the adherents of Bacon took strong ground against 
Berkley and advised his forcible deposal. A successful operation 
against the Baconites induced the governor to return to Jamestown, 
^rom which the friends of Bacon retired.] 

During these events Bacon was executing his designs 
against the Indians. As soon as he had despatched Bland 
to Accomac, he crossed the James Eiver at his own house, 
at Curies, and surprising the Appomattox Indians, who lived 
on both sides of the river of that name, a little below 
the falls (now Petersburg), he burnt their town, killed a 
large number of the tribe, and dispersed the rest. . . . 

From the falls of the Appomattox, Bacon traversed the 
country to the southward, destroying many towns on the 
banks of the Nottoway, the Meherrin, and the Roanoke. 
His name had become so formidable that the natives fled 
everywhere before him, and, having nothing to subsist 
upon, save the spontaneous productions of the country, 
several tribes pei'ished, and they who survived were so 
reduced as to be never afterwards able to make any firm 
stand against the Long-knives, and gradually became tribu- 
tary to them. 

Bacon, having exhausted his provisions, had dismissed 
I. 23* 



270 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell 

the greater part of his foi'ces before Lawrence, Drum- 
mond, Hansford, and the othef fugitives from Jamestown 
joined him. Upon receiving intelligence of the govern 
or's return, Bacon, collecting a force variously estimated at 
one hundred and fifty, three hundred, and eight hundred, 
harangued them on the situation of affairs, and marched 
back upon Jamestown, leading his Indian captives in tri- 
umph before him. The contending parties came now to 
be distinguished by the names of Rebels and Royalists. 
Finding the town defended by a palisade ten paces in 
width, running across the neck of the peninsula, he rode 
along the work and reconnoitred the governor's position. 
Then, dismounting from his horse, he animated his fatigued 
men to advance at once, and, leading them close to the 
palisade, sounded a defiance with the trumpet, and fired 
upon the garrison. The governor remained quiet, hoping 
that want of provisions would soon force Bacon to retire ; 
but he supplied his troops from Sir William Berkley's 
seat, at Greenspring, three miles distant. He afterwards 
complained that " his dwelling-house at Greenspring was 
almost ruined ; his household goods, and others of great 
value, totally plundered ; that he had not a bed to lie on ; 
two great beasts, three hundred sheep, seventy horses and 
mares, all his corn and provisions, taken away." 

Bacon adopted a singular stratagem, and one hardly 
compatible with the rules of chivalry. Sending out small 
parties of horse, he captured the wives of several of the 
principal loyalists then with the governor, and among 
them the lady of Colonel Bacon, Sr., Madame Bray, Ma- 
dame Page, and Madame Ballard, Upon their being 
brought into the camp. Bacon sends one of them into 
Jamestown to carry word to their husbands that his pur- 
pose was to place their wives in front of his men in case 
of a sally. Colonel Ludwell reproaches the rebels with 









t 
i 1 










mV'^ 






-r ^«^-i^ 



RUINS OF THE OLD CHURCH-TOWER AT JAMESTOWN. 



Campbell] THE BACOS REBELLION. 271 

"ravishing of women from their homes, and hurrying 
them about the country in their rude camps, often threat- 
ening them with death." But, according to another and 
more impartial authority, Bacon made use of the ladies 
only to complete his battery, and removed them out of 
harm's way at the time of the sortie. He raised by moon- 
light a circumvallation of trees, earth, and brushwood 
around the governoi-'s outworks. At daybreak next morn- 
ing the governor's troops, being fired upon, made a sortie ; 
but they were driven back, leaving their drum and their 
dead behind them. Upon the top of the work which he 
had thrown up, and where alone a sally could be made, 
Bacon exhibited the captive ladies to the views of their 
husbands and friends in the town, and kept them there 
until he completed his works. 

[As a result of these active proceedings, the followers of Berkley, 
though superior in numbers to those of Baicon, and well intrenched, 
hastily retired, leaving their antagonist master of the situation. Bacon 
at once determined to burn the town, so that the "rogues should 
harbor there no more." It was accordingly set on fire and laid in 
ashes. Jamestown, at this period, consisted of a church and some six- 
teen or eighteen well-built brick houses. Its population was about a 
dozen families, since all the houses were not inhabited.] 

Bacon now marched to York Eiver, and crossed at Tin- 
dall's (Gloucester) Point, in order to encounter Colonel 
Brent, who was marching against him from the Potomac 
with twelve hundred men. But the greater part of his 
men, hearing of Bacon's success, deserting their colors 
declared for him, " resolving, with the Persians, to go and 
worship the rising sun." Bacon, making his head-quarters 
at Colonel Warmer's, called a convention in Gloucester, 
and administered the oath to the people of that county, 
and began to plan another expedition against the Indians, 
or, as some report, against Accomac, when he fell sick of a 



272 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell 

dysentery brought on by exposure. Retiring to the house 
of a Dr. Pate, and lingering for some weeks, he died. 
Some of the loyalists afterwards reported that he died of 
a loathsome disease, and by a visitation of God ; which is 
disp)roven by T. M.'s Account, by that pubhshed in the 
Yirginia Gazette, and by the Report of the King's Com- 
missioners. Some of Bacon's friends suspected that he 
was taken off by poison ; but of this there is no proof . . . 
The place of Bacon's interment has never been dis- 
covered, it having been concealed by his friends, lest his 
remains should be ' insulted by the vindictive Berkley, in 
whom old age appears not to have mitigated the fury of 
the passions. According to one tradition, in order to screen 
Bacon's body from indignity, stones were laid on his coffin 
by his friend Lawrence, as was supposed ; according to 
others, it was conjectured that his bod}- had been buried 
in the bosom of the majestic York, where the winds and 
the waves might still repeat his requiem. 

[The death of Bacon ended the rebellion, though disastrous conse- 
quences to his adherents followed. Berkley sated his revengeful spirit 
upon those who fell into his hands, many of whom were executed. 
The governor had sent to England for troops, and employed them in 
executing his scheines of revenge. The Assembly at last insisted that 
these executions should cease. Nothing decisive was gained by the 
rehellion, yet it clearly showed the spirit of resistance to tyranny in 
the Virginians. 

The determination not to submit to tyranny, of which we have par- 
ticularized several instances in the colonies, declared itself in the Caro- 
linas at the same period. Several open revolts there took place, which 
may be briefly described. Many of the adherents of Bacon had taken 
refuge in North Carolina, where they were welcomed, and it is proba- 
ble that their influence intensified the democratic sentiment of the 
people, who soon after broke out into rebellion against the arbitrary 
revenue laws. A vessel from New England was seized as a smuggler, 
upon which the people flew to arms, and imprisoned the president of 
the colony and six of his council. ^ The people chose their own gov- 



Garneau] colonial HOSTILITIES. 273 

ernors for several years thereafter. In 1688 another revolt occurred 
against Seth Sothel, one of the proprietors, and governor of the prov- 
ince. He was tried for oppressing the people, and banished from the 
colony. Eevolts of a like character took place in South Carolina. 
Governor Colleton, who sought to carry out Locke's system of govern- 
ment, and to collect the rents claimed by the proprietors, drove the 
people into a rebellion. They took possession of the public records, 
and held an Assembly despite the governor, who thereupon called out 
the militia and proclaimed martial law. This increased the exaspera- 
tion of the colonists, and the governor was impeached and banished. 
He was succeeded by Seth Sothel, who had been banished from North 
Carolina. In 1692, after two years of tyranny, this governor was also 
deposed and banished. The " Grand Model" of government of Locke 
had by this time very effectually lost its potency.] 



COLONIAL HOSTILITIES. 

r. X. GARNEAU. 

[In previous articles we have briefly reviewed the history of the 
French in Canada, down to the futile expedition of Denonville against 
the Iroquois in 1687, and the severe reprisal of the Indians, in which 
they massacred the inhabitants of the island of Montreal and endan- 
gered the very existence of the colony. At this juncture Denonville 
was recalled, and Count de Trontenac sent ovit. The succeeding his- 
tory of the colony is largely one of war with the English colonists, in 
which the Indian allies of the hostile whites took active part. On the 
English side were the Iroquois, the most warlike and powerful of all 
the aborigines, of whom the French had made enemies upon their 
first entrance into the country. The French were supported by the 
Hurons and other Indians of Canada, and by the tribes of northern 
New England, while the southern New England tribes were allies of 
the English. 1ft 

The several wars which raged in Europe between France and Eng- 
land roused the colonies to invasions of one another's territory, in 
which the Indians gave full vent to their savage instincts in murder- 
ing the helpless settlers. King William's War, which continued from 
i.—s 



274 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Garneau 

1689 to 1697, was marked by several such atrocities. At the very 
opening of the war, Dover, in New Hampshire, was attacked, and 
revenge taken upon Major Waldron, who had acted treacherously 
towards the Indians during King Philip's War. During the succeed- 
ing year occurred the massacre at Schenectady, which we have already 
described. Other settlements were assailed, and several of the English 
forts taken. In reprisal, an expedition under Sir William Phipps 
captured Port Eoyal, and essayed to conquer Quebec, but was driven 
oflf. At the same time a fruitless land-expedition was sent from New 
York against Montreal. The Indian depredations upon the English 
frontiers continued, the latest being an attack on Haverhill, Massachu- 
setts, in 1697, in which forty persons were killed or taken captive. 
Among these latter were a Mrs. Duston, her nurse, and a boy, who on 
their way to Canada attacked their captors while sleeping, killed ten 
out of twelve of them, and returned in safety to their friends. During 
this war the French attempted to punish the hostile Iroquois, and 
Frontenac marched into their territory, where he committed much 
damage. On his return, however, he was severely harassed by the 
Indians. 

In 1702 another war broke out between France and England, which 
continued till 1713. In America it was marked by the same atrocities 
as the previous war. The Iroquois were neutrals during most of 
this war, and New York was preserved from danger, the weight of 
the war falling on the New England colonies. In 1704 the town 
of Deerfield was captured by a French and Indian force, forty of the 
inhabitants killed, and one hundred and twelve captured, who were 
marched through the winter snows to Canada. Throughout the war 
the frontier settlements were continually harassed by the savage foe. 
In 1707 the English attacked Port Eoyal, but were repulsed. In 1710 
it was again assailed, and captured, its name being changed to An- 
napolis, in honor of Queen Anne, and the province of Acadia, or 
Nova Scotia, was permanently added to the English possessions. In 
the succeeding year an extensive invasion of Canada was projected, 
which met with an unfortunate termination. The story of this 
expedition we select from Andrew Bell's translation of Garneau's 
" L'Histoire du Canada."] 

In spring, 1711, an expedition was got up to act in con- 
junction with such forces as the plantations could supply 



Gakneau] colonial HOSTILITIES. 275 

for the invasion of Canada. The fleet, under the orders 
of Admiral Sir Hovenden Walker, had companies of seven 
regiments of regulars on board, drafted from the army 
Marlborough was leading from victory to victory. The 
force was put under the charge of Brigadier-General Hill. 

Walker arrived in Boston harbor, June 25, where his 
presence was impatiently expected. The land-force was 
now augmented by the junction of the militias of New 
York, New Jersey, Connecticut, etc., which raised it to a 
total of six thousand five hundred infantry. The fleet now 
consisted of eighty-eight ships and transports. The army 
which was intended to act simultaneously with the ascent 
to Quebec by an advance on Montreal, and was now re- 
constituted, got ready to act, under the orders of General 
Nicholson. It was composed of four thousand Massachu- 
setts and other militia-men, and six hundred Iroquois. 
Having moved his corps to the banks of Lake George. 
Nicholson there awaited the event of the attack On Que- 
bec. Meantime, the invading fleet sailed from Boston. 
July 30. 

The opposing force of the Canadians was proportionally 
small, in number at least. It did not exceed five thousand 
men of all ages between fifteen and seventy, and included 
at the most five hundred savages. But Quebec was now 
in a better state for defence than ever it had been before, 
there being more than one hundred cannons mounted upon 
the works. The banks of the St. Lawrence immediately 
below the city were so well guarded that it would have 
been perilous to an enemy to land anywhere ; above it 
the invaders would hardly adventure. The garrison was 
carefully marshalled, and every man assigned to an ap- 
pointed place, with orders to repair to it as soon as the 
enemy's fleet appeared. 

But the elements were now the best defenders of Can- 



276 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Garxeaxj 

ada, which Providence seemed to have taken under his 
special protection. During the night of August 22, a 
storm from the southwest arose, accompanied bj^ a dense 
fog, in the Grulf of St. Lawrence ; and the hostile fleet 
was put in imminent jeopardy for a time. The admiral's 
ship barely escaped wreck upon breakers. Eight of the 
transports were driven ashore on the Ile-aux-CEufs, one 
of the Seven Islands, and nine hundred out of seventeen 
hundi-ed persons on board perished in the waves. Among 
the corpses strewed on the beach afterwards were found 
the bodies of a number of emigrants from Scotland, in- 
tended colonists for Anglicized Canada ; and among other 
waifs found at the same time were copies of a proclama- 
tion to the Canadians, in Queen Anne's name, asserting 
the suzerainty of Britain, in right of the discovery of 
their country by Cabot. 

Admiral Walker now altered his course, and rendez- 
voused with his scattered fleet, as soon as it could be col- 
lected, at Cape Breton, where he called a council of war, 
in which it was decided to renounce the enterprise. The 
British division of the fleet left for England, and the colo- 
nial vessels returned to Boston. But disasters ceased not 
to attend this ill-starred expedition ; for the Feversham, 
an English frigate of thirty-six guns, and three trans- 
ports, were lost when still in the Laurentian gulf; while 
the Edgar, of seventy guns, Walker's flag-ship, was blown 
up at Portsmouth, October 15, with four hundred men on 
board. 

[A strong Canadian force was now collected at Montreal, in prepa- 
ration for Nicholson's advance. No advance was made, however, 
though the militia were kept under arms, on guard against a Canadian 
invasion. But the Canadians, just now, had work enough at home. 
The Outagamis, a warlike tribe from beyond Lake Michigan, had 
moved eastward to the locality of Detroit, under British instigation. 



GARNEAtJ] COLONIAL HOSTILITIES. 277 

It was their purpose to burn the settlement and kill all the French. 
In this they were joined by the Mascoutins. On the other hand, some 
six hundred warriors of friendly tribes were banded in defence of the 
French, and forced the hostiles to take a defensive attitude.] 

The Outagamis and Mascoutins took refuge in an in- 
trenched camp they had formed near the French fort. 
M. Dubuisson, the governor, finding that they presented 
so imposing a front, was willing that they should retire 
peacefully to their villages on seeing that their hostile 
intents were anticipated and provided against ; but his 
native allies would not allow of this, and proceeded to 
invest their fastness. This was so well defended, how- 
ever, that the assailants became dispirited, and wished to 
retire from the contest ; but Dubuisson, now encouraging 
them to remain, turned the siege into a blockade. In a 
short time provisions, even water, failed the besieged ; and 
when any of them issued from the enclosm-e to procure 
the latter, they were set on by their foes, killed on the 
spot, or burnt alive to make a savage holiday. 

The beleaguered tried, by every means, to detach the 
native auxiliaries present from the French interest ; but 
all in vain. They then sent envoys to the governor to 
crave a truce of two days, to enable their foragers to pro- 
cure food. This singular request was refused, but had 
better been accorded ; for in revenge the Outagamis shot 
fire-arrows against the straw-roofed houses of the village, 
which were thereby entirely consumed. The cannon of 
the fort avenged this act of desperation. Already from 
three to four score of the besieged were dead of hunger 
and thirst, and the air w^as tainted with putrefaction. A 
third deputation came to implore quarter. Pemousa, a 
chief, who brought with him his wife and children as hos- 
tages, adjui-ed the governor to " take pity on his flesh" 
and on the other women and children about to be put at 
I. 24 



278 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Garneau 

French discretion. Some of the allied chiefs present at 
this piteous scene, instead of being moved b}' it, coolly 
jjroposed to Dubuisson to cut down four of the envoys, 
who, they alleged, were the chief defenders of the place. 
This much, at least, was refused. 

The besieged, despairing of success, and hopeless of 
quarter if they surrendered, prepared to take advantage 
of any moment of relaxed vigilance in their besiegers, and 
try to escape. One stormy night they succeeded in this 
attempt, but, exhausted by the privations they had under- 
gone, halted on peninsular ground near St. Clair, whither 
they were soon followed. They intrenched themselves 
again, stood a siege of four days more, and then gave in. 
Not one of the men escaped, and it is ver}^ doubtful 
whether any of the women were sj^ared ; but the con- 
temporary reports of what passed at the time are in dis- 
accord on this point. 

[The remnant of the Outagami or Fox nation, however, long car- 
ried on a harassing warfare with the French, and rendered the routes 
between the posts in Canada and those on the Mississippi so dangerous 
as to be almost impassable. The peace of Utrecht, in 1713, put an end 
to this desolating war. During the succeeding thirty years but few 
events of importance occurred in the English colonies or in Canada. 
It was a much-needed era of tranquillity, during which the colonies 
grew rapidly in population and importance. The Canadian settlements 
were principally confined to the St. Lawrence region, from Quebec to 
Montreal. Farther west there were detached forts and stations, with 
a weak settlement at Detroit, but nothing which could properly be 
called a colony. Yet the spirit of exploration of the French continued. 
In 1731 an effort was made to reach the Pacific overland. M. Veren- 
drye, a trader with the Indians, who had learned much from the West- 
ern tribes of the country that lay beyond, imdertook an exploring ex- 
pedition westward. He proceeded to Lake Superior, where his trading 
interests kept him till 1733. Meanwhile, some of his people made 
their way to the Lake of the Woods, and thence to Lake Winnipeg, 
extending their journey to the point of branching of the river Sas- 



Garneau] colonial HOSTILITIES. 279 

kutchewan. In 1738 the explorers reached the country of the Man- 
dans, and in 1742 followed the upper Missouri as far as the Yellow- 
stone. Finally, on January 1, 1743, two of the sons of M. Verendrye 
found themselves in front of the great range of the Kocky Mountains, 
sixty years in advance of the discovery of this mighty mountain- 
system by the American explorers Lewis and Clarke. 

In 1744 another war, known in America as " King George's War," 
broke out between France and England, and at once brought the 
colonists into hostile relations. The most important event of this war 
was the capture of Louisburg, a powerful stronghold founded by the 
French in 1720 on the island of Cape Breton and intended to be made 
impregnable. The town grew until it contained several thousand in- 
habitants and was a mile in length. "We extract from Garneau an 
account of its siege and capture.] 

Fruuce and Britain were now on the eve of war, chiefly 
for the good pleasure of the German king of the latter, 
as the chief of a petty Continental principality, who set 
about trimming what was called the "balance of power 
in Europe." This had been deranged, it appeared, by the 
pai't which the French king had taken against the empress 
Theresa when a coalition was formed against her by Prus- 
sia, Bavaria, Saxony, etc., in Germany, with Spain and Sar- 
dinia. In January, 1745, a treaty of alliance was signed 
between the empress (already at war with the French), 
the King of Great Britain, the King of Poland, the Elec- 
tor of Saxony, and the United States of Holland, against 
France. 

As on former occasions, the colonial dependencies of the 
two great nations had perforce to go to war also, whether 
they understood the points in dispute which led to hos- 
tilities between their mother-countries or not. There was 
also a " balance of power" between New France and New 
England, getting more and more difficult every year satis- 
factorily to adjust. Canada, however, like the snorting 
war-horse, seemed to scent the coming hostilities while 



280 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Garneau 

yet distant; for her administrators had already repaired 
and munitioned all the frontier posts, especially Fort St. 
Frederic and Fort Niagara. The defensive works of 
Quebec, also, were augmented. Other demonstrations 
were made, about the same time, by the Canadian gov- 
ernment and its colonists, which showed that a continued 
state of peace with the British plantations was neither 
expected nor desired. 

After the belligerents wei^e in full tilt in Europe, for 
the king of Britain and his favorite son were battling, not 
with much honor to either, on that eternal fighting-ground, 
Flanders, there was no appearance, for a time, of either 
government sending any expedition against the Noi"th 
American dependencies of the other. . . . During its early 
stages the war in America between the two rival races 
w'as carried on almost entirely without European aid. 

In a few months after the declaration of war, the Amer- 
ican waters swarmed with French privateers. Sevei'al 
were equipped at Louisburg, Cape Breton, with amazing 
despatch, and made a great number of prizes before ves- 
sels of w^ar could arrive to protect the British colonial 
shipping. Louisburg became, in all respects, a kind of 
hornets' nest in regard to New England, its trade and 
fisheries, which it was now determined to dig out if pos- 
sible. 

Meanwhile, M. Duquesnel, governor of Cape Breton, 
embarked part of the garrison of Louisburg with some 
militia and made a descent upon the settlement of Canso, 
in Acadia, which he burnt, and made the garrison and 
settlers prisoners of war. He then summoned Annapolis, 
but was deterred from investing it by the arrival of a 
reinforcement from Massachusetts. Duquesnel returned 
to Louisburg, where he died shortly thereafter. Gov- 
ernor Shirley had for some time conceived the project of 



Garneau] colonial HOSTILITIES. 281 

taking possession of Cape Breton, now rightly regarded 
as the seaward bulwark of Canada, and a highly-impor- 
tant post as a safeguard to the French fisheries and to 
American trade. The fortifications of Louisburg, the capi- 
tal, even in their uncompleted state, had taken twent3"-five 
years to construct, at a cost, it was reported, of thirt}- 
million livres (nearly one million five hundred thousand 
pounds sterling). They comprised a stone rampart nearly 
forty feet high, with embrasures for one hundred and 
forty-eight cannon, had several bastions, and strong out- 
works; and on the land-side was a fosse fully fourscore 
feet broad. The garrison, as reported afterwards by the 
French, was composed of six hundred regulars and eight 
hundred armed inhabitants, commanded by M. Ducham- 
bois. Upon the same authority we may mention here 
that at this time there were not more than one thousand 
soldiers in garrison, altogether, from the lower St. Law- 
rence to the eastern shore of Lake Erie. 

[At a council held by Governor Shirley, it was decided that an 
effort to take Louisburg would be too costly and hazardous. But the 
colonists, learning of the scheme, were so enthusiastic that the council 
was forced into it. In a few weeks more than four thousand militia 
were raised in the several colonies, and placed under the command of 
a New England merchant, named Pepperel. The expedition sailed 
about the last of March, and reached Canso on April 5, 1745.] 

Colonel Pepperel having sent some shallops to ascertain 
whether the coast was clear of ice, and the report being 
favorable, the expedition resumed its voyage, and a disem- 
barkation on Cape Breton Island was begun at Chapeau 
Eouge on the 27th of April. The garrison was, through 
the promptitude of the invaders, taken completely by sur- 
prise. The descent could not have been effected much 
earlier with safety ; for till the end of March or beginning 
of April the ocean in that region is covered with thick 
I. 24* 



282 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Garneau 

fogs, while both the seaboard and the harbors of Cape 
Breton are choked with thick-ribbed ice. 

By this time Admiral Warren arrived with a few ships, 
and more were expected. His seamen assisted during 
fourteen days in dragging a siege-train of ordnance, 
through marshy ground, to the neighborhood of Louis- 
burg, which was thought at first to be too strongly de- 
fended on the seaAvard side to be confronted by the fleet. 
Meanwhile, the garrison was in a state of revolt, having 
demurred to being employed to put the works into a 
proper state, a duty which had been too long postponed. 
The men had other grievances besides, being ill paid, and 
otherwise badly treated ; but, their feelings of military 
honor being appealed to, they resumed their arms and 
prepared to defend the place. 

During the night of May 13, Mr. Vaughan, son of the 
lieutenant-governor of New Hampshire, who knew the 
localities well, having visited the place the j^ear before, 
landed with four hundred men, marched to the northeast 
part of the bay, and fired some buildings filled with brandy, 
etc., and naval stores. A party in a neighboring fort, 
thinking probably that the incendiaries were the van of 
a large attacking force, quitted their post and took refuge 
in the town. Next morning Yaughan was able to sui'prise 
a battery and hold possession of it until the arrival of a 
reinforcement. 

A great mischance for the French now hastened the fall 
of the place. La Vigilante, a ship of sixty-four guns, with 
five hundred and sixty soldiers and supplies for the gar- 
I'ison on board, was captured by Admiral Warren. Had 
this succor reached its destination, it is very doubtful 
whether Pepperel could have captured the strongest for- 
tress in America, and which was reported to be impreg- 
nable. The next operation was not so favorable to the 



Garneau] colonial HOSTILITIES. 283 

besiegers, who, having tried, with four hundred men, to 
carry a battery on the island of St. John, which protected 
the entry of the harbor, were driven off, leaving sixty dead, 
and one hundred and sixteen of their men, wounded or 
whole, in the hands of the French. But this gleam of 
success only delayed the certain capture of the place, now 
that all further hope of succor from without was gone, and 
its defenders were as discouraged as they were malcon- 
tent before. In a word, Duchambois capitulated, and was 
allowed to march out with the honors of war. In terms 
of the capitulation, the garrison, and about tAvo thousand 
people, the entire population of Louisburg, were embarked 
m British transports and landed at Brest. 

Great was the exultation, naturally enough, at the suc- 
cess of this expedition thus admirably planned and spir- 
itedly executed. Messrs. Shirley and Pepperel wei'e re- 
warded with baronetcies ; and the British Parliament voted 
a sum of money to repay the cost incurred by the colo- 
nists in getting up the enterprise. The discouragement 
in New France for the loss of Cape Breton was commen- 
sm'ate with the elation at its capture in ISTew England and 
the other Anglo-American provinces. 

[An effort was made by the French to recapture the place, but their 
fleet was scattered by a storm, while a deadly epidemic broke out 
among the soldiers and marines. Acadia was at the same time assailed 
by the Canadians, with considerable success. A force of five hundred 
New England militia, sent to oppose them, was attacked by the French 
and Indians, and nearly half the men killed or wounded, and the rest 
forced to surrender.] 

Beginning with the autumn of 1745, the frontiers of 
the British plantations themselves were cruelly ravaged 
in twentj'-seven successive raids of the Canadians during 
three years. Fort Massachusetts, fifteen miles above Fort 
St. Frederic, surrendered to M. Eigaud, who, with seven 



284 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stevens 

hundred colonists and savages, devastated the country for 
fifty miles beyond. M. Corne de St. Luc attacked Fort 
Clinton, and signally defeated an American corps. Sara- 
toga was taken, and its people massacred. Fort Bridgman 
was taken by De Lery. In a word, the frontier-line, from 
Boston to Albany, being no longer tenable, the inhabitants 
fled into the interior, and left their lands at the discretion 
of the enemy. 

[A treaty of peace was concluded October 7, 1748. By its stipula- 
tions the British and French mutually gave up whatever territory each 
had taken, and, greatly to the dissatisfaction of the English colonists. 
Cape Breton, with its fortress, was surrendered to its old masters, and 
the vigorous effort of the New-Englanders thus rendered useless. 
From that time peace prevailed in Europe, but hardly in America, 
hostilities scarcely ceasing during the interval from the treaty to the 
outbreak of the Fi-ench and Indian War.] 



THE SPANISH INVASION OF GEORGIA. 

WILLIAM BACON STEVENS. 

[While the Northern colonies were at war with the French and 
their Indian allies, the Southern were similarly at war with the Span- 
iards of Florida, and the Indian wars of the North had their coun- 
terparts in the South. The troubles with the Indians of Virginia we 
have already described.. Of the Indians of North Carolina, those in 
contact with the settlers rapidly disappeared, destroyed by strong drink 
and other accompaniments of civilization. The settlers came next into 
collision with more remote tribes, the Tuscaroras and the Corees, who 
showed decided symptoms of hostility and organized a secret attack. 
On the night of October 2, 1711, they suddenly fell upon the settle- 
ments and massacred one hundred and thirty persons. A war ensi;ed, 
the whites being aided by a large body of friendly Indians from the 
more southern tribes. In 1713 the Tuscaroras were besieged in their 
fort, and eight hundred taken prisoners. The remainder migrated 




IMSilMII— IK^*- iii n i«.. i . -t»H 



Stevens] THE SPANISH INVASION OF GEORGIA. 285 

north, and joined their kindred, the Iroquois of New York. Peace 
was concluded with the Corees in 1715. 

South Carolina, when settled, contained comparatively few of the 
aborigines. A long and destructive war between two tribes, and a 
fatal epidemic which afterwards prevailed, had decimated the Indians, 
and left their lands open to the settlers. In 1702, during the war of 
England against France and Spain which broke out that year. Gov- 
ernor Moore of Carolina organized an expedition against the Spanish 
settlement of St. Augustine in Florida. He proceeded by sea, while 
Colonel Daniel led a land-expedition of twelve hundred men, half of 
whom were Indians. The Spanish fortification proving too strong for 
their means of assault, Daniel was sent to Jamaica for siege-guns. 
During his absence two Spanish ships appeared off the harbor, and 
Moore, in a panic, abandoned his fleet and hastily retreated. Daniel, 
on his return, stood in towards the harbor, and narrowly escaped cap- 
ture. This useless and expensive expedition gave great dissatisfaction 
to the people of Carolina. It was followed by a successful expedition 
against the Appalachian Indians, allies of Spain. They were com- 
pletely defeated, their towns burned, and their whole province made 
English territory. 

In 1706 a French and Spanish fleet appeared before Charleston. 
But the city was valiantly defended, and the invaders driven off with 
loss. A general Indian war broke out in 1715, comprising numerous 
tribes, the Yamassees at their head. For a while the colony was threat- 
ened with destruction. The frontier settlements were ruined. Fori 
Royal abandoned, and Charleston in serious peril. At length the set- 
tlers made head, drove back the enemy, and on the banks of the Sal- 
kehatchie gained a complete victory. The Yamassees were driven 
from their territory, and retired to Florida. In 1719 a revolution 
against the Proprietors broke out in South Carolina : the settlei-s refused 
to pay their exorbitant claims, and in the name of the king proclaimed 
James Moore governor. The difiiculty was settled in 1729, when 
seven of the eight Proprietors sold out to the king, and the two Caro- 
linas were separated and became royal governments. 

The colony of Georgia was first devised in 1732, by James Ogle- 
thorpe, an English philanthropist, as an asylum for the poor of Eng- 
land and for the oppressed Protestants of all countries. He reached 
America in February, 1733, with one hundred and twenty emigrants, 
and planted a settlement on the site of Savannah. A treaty of peace 
and friendship was at once concluded with the Creek Indians, a power- 



286 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stevens 

ful neighboring confederacy. The colony rapidly increased in num- 
bers. But trouble soon arose with the Spaniards of Florida, who 
claimed that the English were intruding on their territory. Hostilities 
being threatened, Oglethorpe returned to England, and brought out a 
regiment of six hundred men for the defence of his frontier. Soon 
afterwards, in 1739, war broke out between England and Spain, and 
Oglethorpe invaded Florida. He had with him five hundred men 
of his regiment, with other troops, and Indian allies. Several Span- 
ish forts were taken, but St. Augustine was boldly defended, and, after 
being nearly reduced by famine, obtained supplies from vessels that 
ran the blockade of the English fleet. This destroyed all hopes of 
success, and Oglethorpe returned to Georgia. Two years later, the 
Spaniards, in reprisal, invaded Georgia with a large fleet and a numer- 
ous army. Oglethorpe, with a much smaller force, withdrew to his 
fort at Frederica, on St. Simon's Island, near the mouth of the Alta- 
maha River. The interesting story of this invasion we extract from 
the " History of Georgia," by Eev. "William Bacon Stevens.] 

In May [1742] the armament destined for the conquest 
of Georgia, consisting of fifty-six vessels and about seven 
thousand men, left Havana for St. Augustine. One of 
their large vessels, with one hundred and fifty men, was 
lost in passing the Moro castle ; and soon after the fleet 
was dispersed by a storm. ... Of the arrival of this force 
in St. Augustine, Oglethorpe was informed by his Indian 
spies, deserters, and the letters of Captain Hamar; and 
he addressed himself at once to the task of preparing for 
their attack. 

[The Spanish fleet was unsuccessful in its first eff"orts against the 
English forts.] 

On the 28th [of June] the Spanish fleet, largely rein- 
forced, again appeared oflf St. Simon's bar, and, having 
taken the bearings and soundings, lay ofi" and on, waiting 
for a fair wind, to run up to Frederica. All was now 
activity on St. Simon's. The general raised another troop 
of rangers, armed the planters, extended his fortifications, 
dismantled many of the small vessels, and from them 



Stevens] THE SPANISH INVASION OF GEORGIA. 287 

rigged out a merchant-ship, called the Success, with an 
armament of twenty-two guns, which he placed under the 
command of Captain Thompson. . . . 

The following day [July 5], favored by a strong easterly 
wind and a flood tide, the squadron of thirty- [fifty-] six 
vessels, comprising one of twenty-four guns, two ships 
of twenty guns, two large scows of fourteen guns, four 
schooners, four sloops, and the rest half-galleys, entered 
St. Simon's harbor. . . . For four hours the vessels and 
two small batteries of the English maintained the unequal 
contest; but the fleet was too numerous, and they passed 
up the river with a leading breeze, sinking one guard 
schooner and disabling several of the trading-craft. 

[The English now spiked the guns and destroyed the munitions at 
Fort St. Simon's, and withdrew to Frederica. The Spanish vessels 
passed up the river, and landed about five thousand men four miles 
below Frederica. These marched down and took possession of the 
dismantled fort.] 

They made their camp at the fort which he [Oglethorpe] 
bad abandoned, and, hoisting the bloody flag on the com- 
modore's ship, erected a battery and planted in it twenty 
eighteen-pounders. Among the troops landed were a 
regiment of artillery, a regiment of dismounted dragoons, 
a regiment of negroes, officered by negroes, in the style 
and pay of grenadiers, and a regiment of mulattoes, besides 
the Havana battalion, the Havana militia, and the St. 
Augustine forces. On the seventh a part of this force was 
put in motion, and reached within a mile of Frederica, 
when they were discovered by the rangers, and the alarm 
given. Oglethorpe immediately advanced with a party 
of Indians, rangers, and the Highland company, that were 
then on parade, ordering the regiment to follow, being 
resolved to engage them in the defiles of the wood before 
they could get out and deploy in the open savannah. He 



288 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stevens 

charged at the head of his force with such effect that 
nearly all of the party, consisting of one hundred and 
twenty-five of their best woodsmen, and fortj^-five Indians, 
were either killed, wounded, or taken prisoners. . . . The 
pursuit was continued several miles, to an open meadow 
or savannah, upon the edge of which he posted three 
platoons of the regiment and a company of Highland 
foot, so as to be covered by the woods from the enemy, 
who were obliged to pass through the meadow under 
the English fire. Hastening back to Frederica, he got in 
readiness the rangers and marines ; but scarcely were they 
in marching order when he heard firing in the direction 
of his ambushed troops, and, speeding thither, met two of 
the platoons, who, in the smoke and drifting rain, had 
retreated before the advance of Don Antonio Barba, who, 
with one hundred grenadiers and two hundred infantry, 
consisting of Indians and negroes, had pushed into the 
meadow and drove out the ambuscade witb loud huzzas 
and rolling drums. The soldiers informed Oglethorpe that 
all his force was routed ; but, finding one platoon and a 
company of rangers missing, and still hearing firing in 
the direction of the woods, he ordered the ofiicers to 
rally their men and follow him. 

In the mean time this platoon and company of rangers, 
under the command of Lieutenants Sutherland and Mac- 
kay, instead of retreating with their comrades, no sooner 
reached the wood than by a skilfully-executed detour they 
gained the rear of the pursuing enemj^, and, at a j^oint 
where the road passed from the forest to the open marsh 
across a small semicircular cove, planted themselves in 
ambuscade in the thick j^almettoes by which this narrow 
pass was nearly surrounded. 

Scarcely had they secreted themselves near this defile, 
when the Spaniards, on their return, marched out of the 



Stevens] THE SPANISH INVASION OF GEORGIA. 289 

wood, and, supposing themselves secure from attack, pro- 
tected as they were on the one side by an open morass 
and on the other by the crescent-shaped hedge of pahnet- 
toes and underwood, they stacked their arms and yielded 
themselves to repose. Sutherland and Mackay, who from 
their hiding-places had anxiously watched all their move- 
ments, now raised the signal of attack, — a Highland cap 
upon a sword, — and the soldiers poured in upon the un- 
suspecting enemy a well-delivered and most deadly tire. 
Volley succeeded volley, and the sand was strewed with 
the dead and dying. A few of the Spanish officers at- 
tempted, though in vain, to re-form their broken ranks ; 
discipline was gone, orders were unheeded, safety alone 
was sought ; and when, with a Highland shout of triumph, 
the platoon burst among them with levelled bayonet and 
flashing claymore, the panic-stricken foe fled in every di- 
rection, — some to the marsh, where they mired, and were 
taken, — some along the defile, where they were met by 
the tomahawk and the broadsword, — and some into the 
thicket, where they became entangled and lost ; and a few 
only escaped to their camp. Their defeat was complete. 
Barba was taken, after being mortally wounded ; another 
captain, a lieutenant, two sergeants, two drummers, and 
one hundred and sixty privates, were killed, and a captain 
and nineteen men were taken prisoners. This was a feat 
of arms as brilliant as it was successful, and won for the 
gallant troops the highest praise. Oglethorpe, with the 
two platoons, did not reach the scene of this action, which 
has ever since borne the appropriate name of " Bloody 
Marsh," until the victory was achieved ; and, to show his 
sense of their services, he promoted the brave young offi- 
cers who had gained it, on the very field of their valor. 

[The retreating enemy were pursued into their camp. On the next 
day Oglethorpe withdrew his forces to Frederica. The misfortunes of 
I.— N t 25 



290 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stevens 

the Spaniards caused dissensions among their leaders, learning of which, 
Oglethorpe resolved to surprise them by a night attack.] 

For this purpose he marched down, on the twelfth July, 
five hundred men, and, leaving them within a mile of the 
Spanish quarters, went forward at night with a small party 
to reconnoitre, intending to surprise them, but was pre- 
vented b}" the treachery of a Frenchman among Captain 
Carr's marines, who, firing his musket, sounded the alarm, 
and, favored by the darkness, deserted to the enemy. Find- 
ing himself thus discovered, the general distributed the 
drums about the wood, to represent a large foi"ce, and 
ordered them to beat the grenadiers' march, which they 
did for half an hour, and then, all being still, noiselessly 
returned to Frederica. 

Aware of his weakness, and fearing that the disclosures 
which the Frenchman might make would embolden them 
to surround and destroy him, which their superior force 
by land and sea easily enabled them to do, he devised an 
ingenious stratagem to defeat his information and retrieve 
the effects of his desertion. The next day he prevailed 
with a prisoner, and gave him a sum of money, to carry 
a letter privately and deliver it to that Frenchman who 
had deserted. This letter was wintten in French, as if 
from a friend of his, telling him he had received the money ; 
that he should strive to make the Spaniards believe the 
English were weak ; that he should undertake to pilot up 
their boats and galleys, and then bring them under the 
woods where he knew the hidden batteries were ; and 
that if he could bring that about, he should have double 
the reward he had already received ; but if he failed in thus 
decoying them under the guns of the water-battery, to use 
all his influence to keep them at least three days more at 
Fort St. Simon's, as within that time, according to advices 
just received, he should be reinforced by two thousand in- 



Stevens] THE SPANISH INVASION OF GEORGIA. 291 

fantry and six men-of-war, which had already sailed from 
Charleston ; and, by way of postscript, he was cautioned 
against mentioning that Ad7niral Yernon was about to 
make a descent upon St. Augustine. The Spanish prisoner 
got into the camp, and was immediately carried before the 
genera], Don Manuel de Montiano. He w^as asked how 
he escaped, and whether he had any letters, but, denjdng 
his having any, was strictly searched, and the letter found 
in his possession. Under a promise of pardon, he confessed 
that he had received money to deliver it to the Frenchman, 
for the letter was not directed. The Frenchman denied 
his knowing anything of its contents, or having received 
any money, or having had any correspondence with Ogle- 
thorpe, and vehemently protested that he was not a spy. 

[The contents of the captured letter seriously perplexed the Spanish 
commander, for whom the Frenchman had acted as a spy among the 
English. Most of the council looked on him as a double spy, believed 
the information of the letter, and advised an immediate retreat. "While 
the council grew warm in their debate, word was brought to the com- 
mander that three vessels had been seen oft' the bar. Supposing this 
to be part of the threatened fleet, the council no longer doubted the truth 
of the letter, and resolved to fly before they should be hemmed in by 
sea and land. They set fire to the fort, and hastily embarked, aban- 
doning a quantity of their military stores in their hurry to escape. 
Oglethorpe followed them with the vessels at his command, and has- 
tened the rapidity of their flight.] 

Thus the vigilance of Oglethorpe, the skilfulness of his 
plans, the determined spirit of resistance, the carnage of 
Bloody Marsh, the havoc done to the enemy's ships, and 
his ingenious stratagem to defeat the designs of the French 
deserter, saved Georgia and Carolina from falling into the 
hands of the Spaniards. The force employed by the Span- 
iards in this invasion comprised . . . over five thousand 
men, commanded by Montiana, governor of St. Augustine, 
and brought to Georgia in fifty-six vessels. The command 



292 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Booth 

of Oglethorpe consisted of only six hundred and fifty-t-vvo 
men, including Indians and militia. The triumph of Ogle- 
thorpe was complete. For fifteen days, with only two 
ships and six hundred men, he had baffled the Spanish gen- 
eral with fifty-six vessels and five thousand men, and at 
last comi^elled him to retreat, with the loss of several sail, 
scores of his best troops, and much of his provisions, mu- 
nitions, and artillery. The repulse of such a formidable 
invasion by such a handful of troops is unparalleled in 
colonial history. 

[The news of this victory was received with universal joy in the 
North, and Oglethorpe was warmly congratulated on his victory by 
the governors of the other English provinces. In the succeeding year 
an attack was made on St. Augustine by an army under Oglethorpe. 
This expedition proved unsuccessful. There were no further move- 
ments of invasion, though Georgia experienced annoyance from the 
Florida Indians, who were stirred up by Spanish hostility.] 



THE NEGRO PLOT IN NEW YORK. 

MARY L. BOOTH. 

[The witchcraft delusion of Salem had its counterpart in an equally 
baseless epidemic of suspicion and cruelty in New York, of suffi- 
cient importance to call for special consideration. The only other 
event of marked importance in that city, between the Leisler rebellion 
and the French and Indian War, was a conflict between the demo 
cratic and aristocratic parties in 1732. These parties divided the prov- 
ince, and were in violent opposition. The editor of a popular journal 
was imprisoned and sued for libel for an attack upon the measures of 
the governor and council. He was acquitted upon trial, and Andrew 
Hamilton, one of his defendei-s, was presented with an elegant gold 
box by the magistrates, for his defence of popular rights and the lib- 
erty of the press. The other occurrence referred to, the negro plot 



Booth] THE NEGRO PLOT IN NEW YORK. 293 

of 1741, which for a while threw the city into an unreasoning panic, 
is fully described in Mary L. Booth's " History of the City of New 
York," from which we extract its leading particulars.] 

The negro plot of the city of New York will long con- 
tinue to be classed in the foremost rank of popular delu- 
sions, even exceeding in its progress and its fearful denoue- 
ment the celebrated Popish Plot concocted by Titus Gates. 
At this distance, it is difficult to ascertain how many 
grains of truth were mingled in the mass of prejudice, or 
to discover the wild schemes which may have sprung up 
in the brains of the oppressed and excitable negroes, but 
certain it is that nothing can justify the wholesale panic 
of a civilized community, or the indiscriminate imprison- 
ment and execution of scores of ignorant beings without 
friends or counsel, on no other evidence than the incohe- 
rencies of a few wretches more degraded than they, sup- 
ported by the horror of a terror-struck imagination. We 
shall endeavor to follow the development of this singular 
plot clearly and simplj', leaving the reader to draw his 
own inference from the facts and to determine how much 
credence should be given the testimony. 

At this time New York contained about ten thousand 
inhabitants, nearly one-fifth of whom were negro slaves. 
Since the first introduction of slavery into the province in 
the days of Wilhelm Kieft, it had increased and flourished 
to an alarming extent. Every householder who could 
afford it was surrounded by negroes, who were contemptu- 
ously designated as " the black seed of Cain," and deprived 
not only of their liberty, but also of the commonest rights 
of humanity. . . . The ordinances [against them] were of 
the most stringent character. " All blacks were slaves," 
says a late historian, " and slaves could not be witnesses 
against a freeman. They were incapable of buying any- 
thing, even the minutest necessary of life; they were pun- 
I. 25* 



294 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Booth 

ishable by master or mistress to any extent short of life or 
limb; as often as three of them were found together, they 
were punished with forty lashes on the bare back ; and the 
8ame legal liability attended the walking with a club out- 
riide the master's grounds without a permit. Two justices 
might inflict any punishment short of death or amputation 
for a blow or the smallest assault upon a Christian or a 
Jew." Such was the spirit of the laws of the times. 

It had been the constant policy, both of the Dutch 
and English governments, to encourage the importation of 
slaves as much as possible ; the leading merchants of the 
city were engaged in the traffic, which was regarded by the 
public as strictly honorable, and at the time of which we 
speak New York was literally swarming with negroes, and 
presented all the features of a present* Southern city, 
with its calaboose on the Commons and its market-place 
at the foot of "Wall Street. The people were not blind to 
the possible danger from this oppressed yet powerful host 
that was silently gathering in their midst, and the slight- 
est suspicious movement on the part of the negroes was 
sufficient to excite their distrust and alarm. Since the 
supposed plot of 1712, of which we have already spoken, 
a growing fear of the slaves had pervaded the city, and 
the most stringent measures had been adopted to prevent 
their assemblages and to keep them under strict surveil- 
lance. But it was difficult to restrain the thieving pro- 
pensities of the negroes; petty thefts were constantly 
committed, and it was one of these that first paved the 
way to the real or supposed discovery of a plot to murder 
the inhabitants and take possession of the city. 

On the 14th of March, 1741, some goods and silver were 
stolen from the house of a merchant named Eobert Hogg, 

* 1859. 



Booth] THE NEGRO PLOT IN NEW YORK. 295 

on the corner of Broad and Mill or South William Streets. 
The police immediately set to work to discover the thieves, 
and, suspicion having fallen upon John Hughson, the 
keeper of a low negro tavern on the shores of the North 
Eiver, his house was searched, but to no effect. Soon after, 
an indentured servant-girl of Hughson's, bj' the name of 
Mar}' Burton, told a neighbor that the goods were really 
hidden in the house, but that Hughson would kill her if he 
knew she had said so. This rumor soon came to the ears 
of the authorities, who at once arrested Mary Burton and 
lodged her in the city jail, promising her her freedom if 
she would confess all that she knew about the matter. 

[On a hearing, Mary Burton charged a negro named Cfesar with 
complicity in the robbery, and he and another shive, named Prince, 
were arrested and imprisoned. Shortly afterwards the governor's 
house at the fort took fire and burned to the ground. Other fires took 
place in rapid succession, and there spread among the alarmed inhab- 
itants a rumor that the negroes had plotted to burn the city. This 
suspicion soon took the form of certainty. Some free negroes had 
recently been brought into the port, as the crew of a Spanish prize 
vessel, and had been sold as slaves. They were exasperated by this 
harsh usage, and indulged in murmurs and threats. ' One of them 
being questioned about a tire, his answers seemed evasive, and " Take 
up the Spanish negroes !" became the instant cry. They were at once 
arrested and thrown into prison.] 

The magistrates met the same afternoon to consult 
about the matter, and while they were still in session 
another fire broke out in the roof of Colonel Philipse's 
storehouse. The alarm became universal ; the negroes 
were seized indiscriminately and thrown into prison, — 
among them many who had just helped to extinguish the 
fire. People and magistrates were alike panic-struck, and 
the rumor gained general credence that the negroes had 
plotted to burn the city, massacre the inhabitants, and 
effect a o-eneral revolution. 



296 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Booth 

On the 11th of April, 1741, the Common Council as- 
sembled, and oifered a reward of one hundred pounds 
and a full pardon to any conspirator who would reveal his 
knowledge of the plot, with the names of the incendiaries. 
Many of the terrified inhabitants removed with their 
household goods and valuables from what they began to 
deem a doomed city, paying exorbitant prices for vehicles 
and assistance. The city was searched for strangers and 
suspicious persons, but none were found, and the negroes 
were examined without effect. Cuff Philipse,* who had 
been among those arrested, was proved to have been among 
the most active in extinguishing the fire at his master's 
house, 3'et he was held in prison to await further develop- 
ments. 

[Before the grand jury, which soon after met, Mary Burton deposed 
that she had overheard a plot to burn the city and kill the whites. 
Hughson was then to be governor, and Cuff king. Peggy Carey, an 
Irishwoman who lived in Hughson's house, was charged with com- 
plicity in the plot. She was convicted of having received and secreted 
the stolen goods, and was sentenced to death along with Prince and 
Caesar.] 

Terrified at the prospect of a speedy death, the wi-etched 
Peggy endeavored to avert her fate by grasping the means 
of rescue which had before been offered her, and begged 
for a second examination, and, this being granted her, 
confessed that meetings of negi'oes had been held in the 
last December at the house of John Romme, a tavern- 
keeper near the new Battery, of the same stamp with 
Hughson, at which she had been present, and that Eomme 
had told them that if they would set fire to the city, mas- 
sacre the inhabitants, and bring the plunder to him, he 
would carry them to a strange country and give them all 

* The negroes were familiarly called by the surnames of their 
masters. 



Booth] THE NEGRO PLOT IN NEW YORK. 297 

their liberty. This confession was so evidently vamped 
up to save herself from the gallows that even the magis- 
trates hesitated to believe it. Yet Cuff Philipse, Brash 
Jay, Curagoa Dick, Csesar Pintard, Pati-ick English, Jack 
Beasted, and Cato Moore, all of whom she had named in 
her confession, were brought before her and identified as 
conspirators. Eomme absconded, but his wife was arrested 
and committed to prison, and the accused were locked up 
for further examination. Upon this, the terrified negroes 
began to criminate each other, hoping thereby to save 
themselves from the fate that awaited them. But these 
efforts availed them nothing, any more than did the con- 
fession of the miserable Peggy, who was executed at last, 
vainly denj^iug with her dying breath her former accu- 
sations. In the mean time several fires had occurred at 
Hackensack, and two negroes, suspected of being the in- 
cendiaries, were condemned and burnt at the stake, though 
not a particle of evidence was found against them. 

On Monday, the 11th of May, Caesar and Prince, the 
first victims of the negro plot, were hung on a gallows 
erected on the little island in the Fresh Water Pond, de- 
nying to the last all knowledge of the conspiracy, though 
they admitted that they had really stolen the goods. 

Hughson and his wife were tried and found guilty, and, 
with Peggy Carey, were hanged on a gibbet erected on 
the East Eiver shore, near the corner of Cherry and 
Catharine streets. . . . Cuff Philipse and Quack were 
next brought to trial, a negro boy named Sawney appear- 
ing as witness against them. This boy was at first ar- 
rested and brought before the magistrates, when he denied 
all knowledge of the conspiracy. He was told, in reply, 
that if he would tell the truth he would not be hanged. 
To tell the truth had now come to be generally understood 
to mean the confession of a plot for burning the town. 



298 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Booth 

[The frightened boy told a tissue of doubtful tales, on the strength 
of which the accused negroes were tried for their lives. All the law- 
yers of the city were on the side of the prosecution, leaving the 
prisoners without counsel.] 

Ignorant of the forms of law, and terrified at the pros- 
pect of their impending danger, it is not strange that their 
bewildered and contradictory statements were construed 
by their learned adversaries into evidences of their guilt. 
Quack and Cuffee were found guilty, and sentenced to be 
burned at the stake on the 3d of June. 

On the day appointed, the fagots were piled in a grassy 
valley in the neighborhood of the present Five Points, 
and the wretched victims led out to execution. The spot 
was thronged with impatient spectators, eager to witness 
the terrible tragedy. Terrified and trembling, the poor 
wi'etches gladly availed themselves of their last chance 
for life, and, on being questioned by their masters, con- 
fessed that the plot had originated with Hughson, that 
Quack's wife was the pei-son who had set fire to the fort, 
he having been chosen for the task by the confederated 
negroes, and that Mary Burton had spoken the truth and 
could name many more conspirators if she pleased. As a 
reward, they were reprieved until the further pleasure of 
the governor should be known. But the impatient popu- 
lace, which had come out for a spectacle, would not so 
easily be balked of its prey. Ominous mutteriiigs re- 
sounded round the pile, with threats of evil import, and 
the sheriff" was ordered to proceed with his duty. Terri- 
fied by these menaces, he dared not attempt to take the 
prisoners back to the jail ; and the execution went on. 
"Despite their forced confessions, the terrible pile was 
lighted, and the wretched negroes pei"ished in the flames, 
knowing that, with their last breath, they had doomed 
♦^■heir fellows to share their fate in vain. 



I 



•Booth] THE NEGRO PLOT IN NEW YORK. 299 

On the 6th of June, seven other negroes, named Jack, 
Cook, Eobin, Csegar, Cuffee, Cuffee, and Jamaica, were tried 
and found guilty on the dying evidence of Quack and Cuf- 
fee, with the stories of Mary Burton and the negro boy 
Sawney. All were executed the next day, with the ex- 
ception of Jack, who saved his life by promising further 
disclosures. These disclosures implicated fourteen others, 
one of whom, to save his life, confessed and accused still 
more. 

On the 11th of June, Francis, one of the Spanish negroes, 
Albany, and Curagoa Dick were sentenced to be burned at 
the stake. Ben and Quack were condemned to the same 
fate five days after. Three others were at the same time 
sentenced to be hanged, and five of the Spanish negroes 
were also convicted. 

[On June 19 the governor proclaimed pardon to all who should con- 
fess and reveal the names of their accomplices before July 1. The 
accusations at once multiplied. Mary Burton, who had declared that 
Hughson was the only white man in the plot, now accused John Ury, 
a schoolmaster and reputed Catholic priest. To the negro plot were 
now added rumors of a Popish plot. The evidence against Ury was 
of the most improbable character, yet he was condemned, and sentenced 
to be hanged.] 

The arrest of Ury was the signal for the implication of 
others of the whites. It was a true foreshadowing of the 
Eeign of Terror. Every one feared his neighbor, and has- 
tened to be the first to accuse, lest he himself should be 
accused and thrown into prison. Fresh victims were daily 
seized, and those with whom the jails were already full to 
overflowing were transported or hanged with scarcely the 
foi'm of a trial in order to make room for the new-comers. 
So rapid was the increase that the judges feared that the 
numbers might breed an infection, and devised short meth- 
ods of ridding themselves of the prisoners, sometimes by 



300 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Booth 

pardoning, but as often by hanging them. From the 11th 
of May to the 29th of August, one hundred and fifty -four 
negroes were committed to prison, fourteen of whom were 
burned at the stake, eighteen hanged, seventy-one trans- 
ported, and the rest pardoned or discharged for the want 
of sufficient evidence. In the same time, twenty-four 
whites were committed to prison, four of whom were 
executed. 

The tragedy would probably have continued much longer, 
had not Mary Burton, grown bolder by success, begun to 
implicate persons of consequence. This at once aroused 
the fears of the influential citizens, who had been the fore- 
most when only the negroes were in question, and put a 
stop to all further proceedings. The fearful catalogue of 
victims closed on the 29th of August with the execution 
of John Ury. The 24th of September was set apart as a 
day of general thanksgiving for the escape of the citizens 
from destruction ; Mary Burton received the hundred 
pounds that had been j)romised her as the price of blood, 
and the city fell back into a feeling of security. 

Whether this plot ever had the shadow of an existence 
except in the disordered imaginations of the citizens can 
never with certainty be known. . . . The witnesses were 
persons of the vilest character, the evidence was contra- 
dictory, inconsistent, and extorted under the fear of death, 
and no real testimony w^as adduced that could satisfy any 
man in the possession of a clear head and a soundjudg- 
ment. Terror was really the strongest evidence, and the 
fear of the Jesuits the conclusive proof. The law passed 
in 1700 for hanging every Catholic priest who voluntarily 
came within the province still disgraced the statute-book, 
while the feeling of intolerance which had prompted it 
remained as bitter and unyielding as ever. 



FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR. 301 



SECTION V. 

THE FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR. 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

The three colonial wars between the French and Eng- 
lish, which we have described, arose from events taking 
I)laee on the other side of the Atlantic, and were nearly 
fruitless in results, so far as America was concerned. The 
bloodshed, torture, and other horrors which accompanied 
them might all have been spared, since neither of the 
contestants gained any important advantages from them. 
The war which we have yet to describe differed from the 
others in both the particulars mentioned. It had its ori- 
gin in America, and it ended in a very decided change in 
the relative positions of the contestants. 

The progress of the colonies had by the middle of the 
eighteenth century aroused conflicting claims to territory 
which could scarcely fail to result in a struggle. The 
treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle had endeavored to adjust the 
relative claims to North American territory by the three 
powers of England, France, and Spain. But as yet these 
powers occupied only a narrow strip along the Atlantic 
coast, and though they claimed, by their charters, the 
whole country from ocean to ocean, yet their ignorance 
of the vast region thus appropriated on paper was very 
sure to bring them into disputes concerning boundaries. 
The English claimed the whole sea-coast from ISTewfound- 
I. 26 



302 AMERICAN HISTORY. 

land to Florida, in virtue of the discovery by the Cabots, 
and their grants of territory were assumed as extending 
westward to the Pacific. This claim to the interior was 
partly based on treaties Avith the Iroquois Indians, who, 
on the pretence that they had at some former time con- 
quered all the territory from the Alleghanies to the Mis- 
sissippi, ceded this territory to the English, without heed 
to the rights of the tribes actually occupying it. 

The French, on the other hand, based their claims to 
the Mississippi region on actual discovery and exploration. 
In their view, the half of New York, and the greater 
portion of New England, fell within the limits of New 
France and Acadia; while their western provinces of 
Upper and Lower Louisiana were held to include the 
entire valle}' of the Mississippi and its tributaries. 

The original basis of the war which now arose between 
the Fi'ench and the English was a dispute as to the owner- 
ship of the tei'ritory bordering on the Ohio. The first 
step towards it was a grant from the English government 
to a company of merchants, called the Ohio Company. 
The movements of this company towards a settlement of 
the territory assigned them at once roused the apprehen- 
sions of the French that the English were seeking to de- 
pi'ive them of their trade with the western Indians and 
to sever their line of communication between Canada and 
Louisiana. They immediately took active measures to 
secure their claim to this ten'itory. 

As for the aboriginal owners of the land, not the slight- 
est attention was paid to their rights of possession. Two 
sachems sent a messenger to Mr. Gist, an agent sent out 
by the Ohio Company, to inquii'e of him " where the In- 
dians' land laj', for the French claimed all the land on 
one side of the Ohio River, and the English on the other." 
This pertinent question forcibly shows the real merits of 



FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR. 303 

the case, and that neither of the colonial contestants had 
the slightest claim in equity to the territory. 

Yet, disregarding all Indian rights, the pioneer settlers 
of the two nations proceeded to make good their claims. 
The first act of hostility was committed by the French, in 
1753. Three British traders, who had advanced into the 
disputed territory, were seized bj^ a party of French and 
Indians and carried prisoners to Presque Isle, on Lake 
Erie, where the French were then erecting a fort. In 
reprisal, the Twightwees, a tribe in alliance with the 
English, seized several French traders, whom they sent to 
Pennsylvania. 

These evident hostilities between the whites aroused 
the Indians, ever ready for war and bloodshed. Insti- 
gated, as is supposed, by French emissaries, they began 
inroads upon the borders. The settlers of the Shenan- 
doah Valley, who were suffering from these savage raids, 
called upon Governor Dinwiddle, of Virginia, for aid. A 
messenger was sent out to ascertain the temper of the 
Indians and the intentions of the French. He returned 
in alarm at the hostility discovered. Orders now arrived 
from the British ministry to the governor of Virginia, 
directing him to build two forts near the Ohio, intended 
to hold in check the Indians and to prevent French en- 
croachments. The orders ari'ived too late. The French 
had already taken possession of the territory, and were 
securing it by the erection of forts. 

Such were the instigating causes of the Seven Years' 
War in America, a conflict which continued for several 
years before any declaration of hostilities was made by 
the mother-countries, and which resulted in a radical 
chano:e in the relations of the colonists of America. 



304 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks 

THE OPENING OF THE WAR. 

JARED SPARKS. 

[It was deemed desirable, before taking any more active measures, 
to send a messenger to the couimander of the French forces on the 
Ohio and demand his authority for invading the territory of Virginia, 
and with what designs he was there. Governor Dinwiddie selected for 
this important mission George Washington, then but twenty-one years 
of age, yet already holding a commission of major in the Virginia 
militia, and a man of note in the colony. In addition to his ostensi- 
ble mission, he was instructed to learn all he covild in regard to the 
disposition of the Indians, the number of French troops in the country, 
and what reinforcements were expected, with all possible information 
as to the location, strength, and garrisons of the French forts. Pro- 
vided with credentials from the governor, he set out from "Williams- 
burg on October 31, 1753. His journey, which was in great part 
through a wilderness, mainly mountainous, covered a distance of five 
hundred and sixty miles. Eeaching Will's Creek, beyond Winchester, 
he induced Mr. Gist, an experienced woodsman, to accompany him as 
guide. The party that there left the extreme limit of civilization 
and plunged into the primeval forest consisted of eight persons. The 
season proved severe, and the mountains difficult to cross, but they at 
length reached the Ohio at the point of junction of its two affluents. 
The military advantages of this place were perceived by Major Wash- 
ington, and he advised the erection of the fortification which was 
soon begun there, and which was destined to prove famous in the 
coming war. Twenty miles farther, at Logstown, he called together 
some of the Indian chiefs, with whom he sought to make an alliance, 
and whom he asked for an escort. In neither was he fully successful, 
only four Indians accompanying him. A journey of one hundred 
and twenty miles ftirther took him to the station of the French com- 
mandant, at a fort situated on French Creek, about fifteen miles south 
of Lake Erie. The journey had occupied forty-one days. He was 
received with great politeness by M. de St. -Pierre, the commandant, 
and delivered his letters, which expressed surprise at the French en- 
croachments, demanded their authority, and urged a speedy and 
peaceful departure. While the French officers were in consultation, 
Washington took the opportunity to inspect the fort thoroughly. 



Sparks] THE OPENING OF THE WAR. 305 

Finally he received the answer that the French were there by au- 
thority and could not retire, and that the message should have been 
sent to the governor of Canada. 

The return of the party proved a difficult one. They proceeded by 
canoe to the French post of Venango, at the mouth of French Creek, 
on the Ohio. Here their horses proved so emaciated as to be fit only 
to carry the provisions and baggage, and the party determined to 
proceed on foot. After three days more the horses grew so feeble 
that Major "Washington and Mr. Gist left the rest of the party, and 
started alone through the woods by a more direct route. They had 
some exciting adventures, and in crossing the Alleghany, which was 
full of drifting ice, they narrowly escaped drowning. They managed 
to escape from their raft to an island, and reached the opposite shore 
the next morning ; but Mr. Gist's hands and feet were frozen by the 
intense cold, and the night was one of extreme suffering. Washing- 
ton finally reached Williamsburg on January 16, after an absence of 
eleven weeks. 

As the intentions of the French were now evident, no time was lost 
in preparing for energetic action. Efibrts to raise a colonial army 
were at once made, but Virginia had mainly to depend upon herself, 
the other colonies taking little interest in the matter. At length, in 
April, 1754, Washington, now colonel, set out with two companies of 
recruits, and reached Will's Creek on the 20th. The account of the 
subsequent events we extract from "The Life of George Washington," 
by Jared Sparks.] 

A PARTY of Captain Trent's men had already gone to 
the Ohio, and begun to build a fort. Just before Colonel 
"Washington reached Will's Creek, a rumor came from the 
interior that these men were taken by the French ; and 
two days afterwards the alarming intelligence was con- 
firmed hj the ensign of Captain Trent's company. He 
reported that, while they were at work, forty-one in num- 
ber, a body of French troops descended the river from 
Venango, consisting of one thousand men, with eighteen 
pieces of cannon, sixty bateaux, and three hundred canoes, 
under the command of Captain Contrecoeur, and summoned 
them to surrender, threatening to take forcible possession 
x.—u 26* 



306 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Spakks 

of the fort if this summons were not immediately obeyed. 
No alternative remained, and, the captain and lieutenant 
being absent, Ensign Ward acceded to articles of capitu- 
lation, and gave up the fort, but was permitted to retire 
with his men. He came to Will's Creek, and brought the 
news of the disaster. His statement, however, as to the 
numbers of the French, their cannon and boats, turned 
out to be very much exaggerated. This was the first open 
act of hostility in the memorable war of seven years that 
followed. The French enlarged and completed the fort, 
which they called Fort Duquesne, in compliment to the 
governor of Canada. 

[The position of Colonel "Washington was now a somewhat critical 
one. His small force of ill-disciplined recruits might easily be sur- 
rounded and cut oif. But he determined to advance, to construct a 
road as he did so, and, if he could reach the Monongahela, to build a 
fort at the mouth of Bedstone Creek. The progress was a slow one. 
Great difficulties had to be overcome, and provisions grew scarce. 
"Washington attempted to find a passage by water down the Youghio- 
gheny, but failed, from obstructions in the river. On his return he re- 
ceived word from the Half-King, a friendly sachem, that a party of 
French were marching towards him, determined to attack the first 
English they should meet.] 

Not knowing their number, or at what moment they 
might approach, he hastened to a place called the Great 
Meadows, cleared away the bushes, threw up an intrench- 
ment, and prepared, as he expressed it, " a charming field 
for an encounter." He then mounted some of the soldiers 
on wagon-horses, and sent them out to reconnoitre. They 
came back without having seen any traces of the enemy ; 
but the camp was alarmed in the night, the sentries fired, 
and all hands were kept under arms till morning. Mr. 
Gist came to the camj), also, and reported that a French 
detachment, consisting of fifty men, had been at his settle- 



Spakks] the opening OF THE WAR. 307 

ment the day before, and that he had observed their tracks 
within five miles of the Great Meadows. 

The approach of the French with hostile designs was 
now deemed certain ; and the best preparation was made to 
receive them which circumstances would permit. In the 
mean time, about nine o'clock at night, another express 
came from the Half-King, who was then with a party of 
his warriors about six miles from the camp, stating that 
he had seen the tracks of two Frenchmen, and that the 
whole detachment was near that place. Colonel Wash- 
ington immediately put himself at the head of forty men, 
leaving the rest to guard the camp, and set off to join the 
Half-King. The night was dark, the rain fell in torrents, 
the paths through the woods were narrow and inti"icate, 
and the soldiers often lost their way, groping in the bushes, 
and clambering over rocks and fallen trees. 

The whole night was spent in the march, and they got 
to the Indian encampment just before sunrise. A council 
was held with Tanacharison [the Half-King] and his 
chief warriors, and it was agreed that they should march 
in concert against the French. Two Indians went out to 
ascertain the position of the enemy, which was discovered 
to be in an obscure retreat, surrounded by rocks, half a 
mile from the road. The plan of attack was then formed. 
Colonel Washington and his men were to advance on the 
right, and 'the Indians on the left. The march was pur- 
sued in single file, according to the Indian manner, till 
they came so near as to be discovered by the French, who 
instantly seized their arms and put themselves in an atti- 
tude of defence. 

At this moment the firing commenced on both sides. A 
smart skirmish ensued, which was kept up for a quai'ter 
of an hour, when the French ceased to resist. M. de Ju- 
monville, the commander of the French party, and ten of 



308 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks 

his men, were killed. Twenty-two were taken prisoners, 
one of whom was wounded. A Canadian made his escape 
durino; the action. One of Colonel Washino-ton's men was 
killed, and two or three wounded. No harm happened to 
the Indians, as the enemy's fire was directed chiefly against 
the English. This event occurred on the 28th of May. 
The prisoners were conducted to the Great Meadows, and 
thence, under a guard, to Governor Dinwiddle. 

[This action, the opening conflict of arms in the war, acquired a 
notoriety far beyond its importance. When the news of the event 
reached Paris it was greatly misrepresented. Jvimonville was consid- 
ered a messenger bearing a civil summons, who had been waylaid and 
assassinated ; and an able French poet, named Thomas, made it the 
foundation of an epic poem entitled " Jumonville," and his fiction has 
become to some extent the fact of modern French historians. Jumon- 
ville did bear a summons, but it was an order for the English to re- 
tire, with a threat of compulsion if they failed to obey. This sum- 
mons he did not show, but approached the English camp stealthily, 
and brought on himself, by his imprudence, the fate which he expe- 
rienced. 

Some reinforcements soon after reached Virginia, consisting of three 
hundred and fifty men from North Carolina, one hundred from South 
Carolina, and two companies from New York. Of these only those 
from South Carolina arrived at Great Meadows.] 

It was foreseen by Colonel Washington that when the 
French at Fort Duquesne should get the news of Ju- 
monville's defeat a strong detachment woul'd be sent 
out against him. As a preparation for this event, he 
set all his men at work to enlarge the intrenchment 
at the Great Meadows, and to erect palisades. To the 
structure thus hastily thrown up he gave the name of 
Fort Necessity. 

The Indians, who leaned to the English interest, fled 
before the French and flocked to the camp, bringing along 
their wives and children and putting them under his pro- 



Sparks] THE OPENING OF THE WAR. 309 

tection. Among them came Tanacharison and his people, 
Queen Aliquippa and her son, and other persons of dis- 
tinction, till between forty and fifty families gathered 
around him and laid his magazine of supplies under a 
heavy contribution. It may be said, once for all, that the 
burden of supporting these sons of the forest during this 
campaign, and the perplexities of managing them, were 
by no means counterbalanced by any advantage derived 
from their aid. As spies and scouts they were of some 
service; in the field they did nothing. 

The forces at the Great Meadows, including Captain 
Mackay's [South Carolina] company, had now increased 
to about four hundred men. But a new diflSculty arose, 
which threatened disagreeable consequences. Captain 
Mackay had a royal commission, which in his opinion 
put him above the authority of Colonel Washington, who 
was a colonial officer, commissioned by the governor of 
Virginia. He was a man of mild and gentlemanly man- 
ners, and no personal difference interrupted the harmony 
between them ; but still he declined receiving the orders 
of the colonel, and his company occupied a separate en- 
campment. . . . 

To avoid altercation, and prevent the contagious ex- 
arflple of disobedience from infecting the troops. Colonel 
Washington resolved to advance with a large part of his 
army, and, if not obstructed by the enemy, to go on by 
the shortest route to the Monongahela Eiver. Captain 
Mackay's company was left at Fort Necessity, as a guard 
to that post. The road was to be cleared and levelled for 
artillery-carriages; and the process was so laborious that 
it took two weeks to effect a passage through the gorge 
of the mountains to Gist's settlement, a distance of only 
thirteen miles. . . . Due vigilance was practised, and 
scouts were kept abroad, even as far as the neighborhood 



310 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks 

of Fort Duquesne, so that the first motions of the enemy 
might be detected. 

[It was soon discovered that Fort Duquesne had been reinforced 
from Canada, and that a force was preparing to march against the 
English. It was at first decided to make a stand at Gist's settlement, 
and Mackay's company was ordered up. But another council decided 
that the enemy's force was too large, and that a retreat was necessary. 
It was achieved with great difficulty and exertion, the horses being 
few and weak, and the burden of labor falling on the men.] 

In two days they all got back to the Great Meadows. 
It was not the intention at first to halt at this place, but 
the men had become so much fatigued from great labor 
and a deficiency of provisions that they could draw the 
swivels no further, nor carry the baggage on their backs. 
They had been eight days without bread, and at the Great 
Meadows they found only a few bags of flour. . . . 

Colonel Washington set his men to felling trees, and 
carrying logs to the fort, with a view to raise a breast- 
work and enlarge and strengthen the fortification in the 
best manner that circumstances would permit. The space 
of ground called the Great Meadows is a level bottom, 
through which passes a small creek, and is surrounded by 
hills of a moderate and gradual ascent. This bottom, or 
glade, is entirely level, covered with long grass and bushes, 
and varies in width. At the point where the fort stood, 
it is about two hundred and fifty yards wide, from the 
base of one hill to that of the opposite. The position of 
the fort was well chosen, being about one hundred yards 
from the upland, or wooded ground, on the one side, and 
one hundred and fifty on the othei', and so situated on 
the margin of the creek as to afford an easy access to 
water. . . . 

On the 3d of July, early in the morning, an alarm was 
received from a sentinel, who had been wounded by the 



Sparks] THE OPENING OF THE WAR. 311 

enemy ; and at nine o'clock intelligence came that the 
whole body of the enemy, amounting, as was repoi-ted, to 
nine hundred men, was only four miles off. At eleven 
o'clock they approached the fort, and began to fire, at the 
distance of six hundred yards, but without effect. Colonel 
Washington had drawn up his men on the open and level 
ground outside of the trenches, waiting for the attack, 
which he presumed would be made as soon as the en- 
emy's forces emerged from the woods; and he ordered 
his men to reserve their fire till they should be near 
enough to do execution. . . . He maintained his post till 
he found the French did not incline to leave the woods 
and attack the fort by an assault, as he supposed they 
would, considering their superiority of numbers. He 
then drew his men back within the trenches, and gave 
them orders to fire according to their discretion, as suita- 
ble opportunities might present themselves. The French 
and Indians remained on the side of the rising ground 
which was nearest to the fort, and, sheltered by the trees, 
kept up a brisk fire of musketry, but never appeared in 
the open plain below. The rain fell heavily through the 
day, the trenches were filled with water, and many of the 
arms of Colonel "Washington's men were out of order and 
used with difficulty. 

In this way the battle continued from eleven in the 
morning till eight at night, when the French called and 
requested a parley. Suspecting this to be a feint to pro- 
cure the admission of an officer into the fort, that he might 
discover their condition, Colonel Washington at first de- 
clined to listen to the proposal. 

[He afterwards agreed to it, and, articles of capitulation being pro- 
posed by the French commander, they were accepted and signed by 
both pai'ties.] 



312 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks 

By the terms of the capitulation, the whole garrison 
was to retire, and return without molestation to the in- 
habited parts of the country; and the French commander 
promised that no embarrassment should be interposed, 
either by his own men or the savages. The English were 
to take away everything in their possession, except their 
artillery, and to march out of the fort the next morning 
with the honors of war, their drums beating and colors 
flying. As the French had killed all the horses and cattle, 
Colonel Washington had no means of transporting his 
heavy baggage and stores ; and it was conceded to him 
that his men might conceal their efl'ects, and that a guard 
might be left to protect them, till horses could be sent up 
to take them away. Colonel "Washington agreed to restore 
the prisoners who had been taken at the skirmish with 
Jumonville ; and, as a surety for this article, two hostages. 
Captain Vanbraam and Captain Stobo, were delivered up 
to the French, and were to be retained till the prisoners 
should return. It was, moreover, agreed that the party 
capitulating should not attempt to build any more estab- 
lishments at that place, or beyond the mountains, for the 
space of a year. 

Early the next morning Colonel Washington began to 
march from the fort in good order, but he had proceeded 
only a short distance when a body of one hundred Indians, 
being a reinforcement to the French, came upon him, and 
could hardly be restrained from attacking his men. They 
pilfered the baggage, and did other mischief He marched 
forward, howevei', with as much speed as possible in the 
weakened and encumbered condition of his army, there 
being no other mode of conveying the wounded men and 
the baggage than on the soldiers' backs. As the provis- 
ions were nearly exhausted, no time was to be lost ; and, 
leaving much of the baggage behind, he hastened to Will's 



Frost] BRADDOCK'S DEFEAT. 313 

Creek, where all the necessary supplies were in store. 
Thence Colonel Washington and Captain JVIackay pro- 
ceeded to Williamsburg, and communicated in person to 
Governor Dinwiddle the events of the campaign. 

[The narration here given is of especial importance, as recording 
the first military event in the life of George Washington, who was 
afterwards to become so famous in the annals of war. Although but 
a youth, unskilled in war, he had shown remarkable prudence, cour- 
age, and ability. His conduct, as well as that of his troops, was highly 
approved by the authorities, and the House of Burgesses passed a vote 
of thanks to Colonel Washington and his officers " for their bravery 
and gallant defence of their country."] 



BRADDOCK'S DEFEAT. 

JOHN FROST. 

[As it was now becoming apparent that war with France was inevi- 
table, and as the continued advances of the French upon what was 
claimed by the English colonists as their territory demonstrated the 
necessity of co-operation in the colonies, the English government rec- 
ommended that a convention should be held at Albany, for the double 
purpose of forming a league with the Iroquois and of devising a plan 
of general defence against the common enemy. The delegates from 
the colonies met in June, 1754, made a treaty of peace with the Six 
Nations, and considered the subject of colonial union. Among the 
delegates was Benjamin Franklin, of Philadelphia, who, starting in 
lif} as a printer's boy, was now postmaster-general of America, and 
was looked upon by many as the ablest of American thinkers. He 
proposed a plan of union, which the convention adopted on July 4. 
There was to be a general government of the colonies, presided over 
by a governor-general appointed by the crown, and conducted by a 
council chosen by the colonial legislatures. The council was to have 
the power to raise troops, declare war, make peace, collect money, and 
pass all measures necessary for the public safety. The governor-gen- 
I.— o ~ 27 



314 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frost 

eral was to have the power to veto its ordinances, while all laws were 
required to be ratified by the king. This plan was favored by all the 
delegates except those of Connecticut, who objected to the veto power 
of the governor-general and to the authority to lay general taxes. 
But when submitted to the colonial Assemblies and to the British gov- 
ernment it was rejected by both, the colonies considering that it gave 
too much power to the king, and the king that it gave too much power 
to the people. As this plan had failed, the British ministrj- determined 
to take the control of the war into their own hands, and to send out 
an army strong enough to force the French to keep within their own 
territory. The story of the ensuing events we select from Frost's 
" Life of General Washington."] 

In January, 1755, General Braddock was despatclied 
from Ireland, with two regiments of infantry, to co-oper- 
ate with the Yirginian forces in recovering the command 
of the Ohio. The arrival of Braddock excited enthusias- 
tic hopes among the colonists. The different provinces 
seemed to forget their disputes with each other and with 
Great Britain, and to enter into a resolution to chastise 
the French, at whatever cost. At the request of the 
British commander, a meeting of the governors of five 
of the colonies was held at Alexandria, at which they 
determined to undertake three simultaneous expeditions. 
The first of these was to be conducted by Braddock, 
with the British troops, against Fort Duquesne; the 
second, under the command of Governor Shirley, now 
honored with the commission of a general from the king, 
was intended for the reduction of the French fort of 
Niagara, and was composed of American regulars and 
Indians ; the third was an expedition against Crown 
Point, to be undertaken by a regiment of militia. 

[The orders brought by Braddock divested the colonial generals and 
field-officers of all rank while serving with British officei-s of the same 
grade, and made company officers subordinate to those of the regular 
army. This left Washington without rank in the new army ; yet he 



Frost] BRADDOCK'S DEFEAT. 315 

was eager to take part in the expedition, and at Braddock's request he 
joined him with the rank of aide-de-camp. The army proceeded by- 
way of Frederic Town and "Winchester to Will's Creek, which was 
reached about the middle of May. Here a long halt was made, to 
obtain wagons and horses, though Washington strongly opposed the 
delay, and recommended an immediate advance, before the French 
could reinforce their posts on the Ohio. Finally the wagons were 
obtained, through the strenuous exertions of Benjamin Franklin and 
his personal influence with the farmers of Pennsylvania. On the 
10th of June the army recommenced its march. As it proceeded 
very slowly, Washington advised a rapid advance of a portion of 
the troops, leaving the rear division, with the baggage, heavy artil- 
lery, etc., to follow more slowly.] 

This advice prevailed in tlie council, and, being ap- 
proved by the general, he advanced on the 19th of June, 
with twelve hundred chosen men, and officers from all the 
different corps, leaving the remainder, with most of the 
wagons, under the command of Colonel Dunbar, with in- 
structions to follow as fast as he could. Notwithstanding 
this arrangement, Braddock advanced very slowly, " halt- 
ing to level every mole-hill and to erect bridges over every 
brook, by which means he was four days in advancing 
twelve miles." 

[Washington was now prostrated with a severe fever, and was 
obliged to remain with the rear division. He rejoined the general 
on the day before the battle, and was then able to sit on horseback, 
though still very weak.] 

On joining Braddock's division on the 8th, at the mouth 
of the Youghiogheny, Washington was surpi-ised to find 
them, though within fifteen miles of the fort, marching in 
regular European order, in as perfect security as if they 
were on the wide plains of the Eastern Hemisphere, or 
in a peaceful review, on a field-day, in England. They 
marched without advanced guards or scouts ; and the 
offer of Washinfftou to scour the woods, in front and on 



316 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frost 

the flanks, with his Virginian provincials, was haughtily 
rejected. 

A considerable bend in the Monongahela Eiver, and the 
nature of the banks, made it necessary for the army to 
cross it twice before they reached the fort. On the morn- 
ing of the 9th of July, everything being in readiness, the 
whole train ci'ossed the river in perfect order, a short dis- 
tance below the mouth of the Youghiogheny, and took 
up their line of march along its southern bank, in high 
spirits. The garrison of the fort was understood to be 
small, and quite inadequate to resist the force now brought 
to bear upon it ; exulting hope filled every heart ; and no 
one doubted that he should see the British flag waving, 
next day, over the battlements, and the enemy obliged 
to retire to Canada or surrender themselves prisoners 
of war. The march on that morning is described as a 
splendid spectacle, being made in full military array, in 
exact order, the sun glancing from the burnished bayo- 
nets to the scarlet uniform of the regulars, with a majestic 
river on the right, and dark, deep woods on the left. Not 
an enemy appeared, and the most profound silence reigned 
over this wild territory. The only countenance among 
them which was clouded with care or concern was that 
of Washington, who, as he rode beside the general, vainly 
represented that the profound silence and apparent soli- 
tude of the gloomy scenes around them afforded no se- 
curity in American warfare against deadly and imminent 
danger. Again, and still vainly, did he offer to scour the 
woods in front and on the left with the provincial troops. 
The ffeneral treated his fears as the effects of fever on his 
brain, and the provincials were ordered to form the rear- 
guard of the detachment. 

About noon they reached the second crossing-place, 
within ten miles of Fort Duquesne, and at one o'clock 



Frost] BRADDOCK'S DEFEAT. 317 

had all crossed the river in safety, Three hundred men 
under Colonel Gage formed the advanced party, which 
was closel}^ followed by a party of two hundred ; and last 
of all followed the general with the main body, consisting 
of about seven hundred men, the artillery and baggage. 

After crossing the river, the road along which they 
marched led for about half a mile through a low plain, 
and then commenced a gradual ascent of about three 
degrees, the prospect being shut in by hills in the distance. 
About a hundred and fifty yards from the bottom of this 
inclined plain, and about equidistant from the road leading 
to the fort, commenced two ravines, from eight to ten feet 
deep, which led off in different directions until they ter- 
minated in the plain below. Covered as these ravines 
were with trees and long grass, and the British having no 
scouts, it was impossible for them to discover their exist- 
ence without approaching within a few feet of them. Up 
this inclined plain, between these ravines. General Brad- 
dock led his army on the afternoon of the 9th of July. 

"While the English were thus leisurely advancing, the 
scouts of the French kept the commandant at Fort Du- 
quesne accurately informed of their motions and their 
numbers. Believing the small force under his command 
wholly inadequate to the defence of the fort against three 
thousand men, with a formidable park of artillery, as his 
scouts had represented them, he was hesitating what course 
to pursue, when Captain de Beaujeu offered to lead a small 
party of French and Indians to meet the enemy and harass 
his march. It required a great deal of persuasion to in- 
duce the Indians to engage in what they considered an 
impossible undertaking; but, possessing their confidence, 
he finally subdued their unwillingness, and induced about 
six hundred of them to accompany him. With these and 
about two hundred and fifty French and Canadians, he 
I. 27* 



318 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frost 

intended to occupy the banks of the Monongahela and 
harass the English as they crossed the rivei'. It was only 
on the morning of the 9th that he was ready to start on 
this expedition, and when he arrived near the river his 
spies reported that Braddock had already crossed. Find- 
ing that he was too late to pursue his original plan, De 
Beaujeu placed his followers in the ravines before men- 
tioned, between which the English were seen advancing 
along the road. 

When the three hundred under Gage came near the 
head of the ravines, a heavy discharge of musketry was 
poured in upon their front, and immediately after another 
upon their left flank. This was the first notice which they 
had of the presence of an enemy. Braddock was com- 
pletely surprised. Gage ordered his men to fire, and 
though no enemy was visible, yet they poured such a 
discharge upon the spot where the smoke of the first fire 
was still to be seen, that the Indians, believing that it pro- 
ceeded from artillery, were upon the point of retreating. 
Their indecision was but for an instant, for the advance, 
falling back upon the main body, threw them into con- 
fusion ; and instead of following the example of the In- 
dians and taking to the trees, or opening upon their 
invisible foe a discharge of grape, they were ordered by 
Braddock to maintain their ranks and advance. Captain 
de Beaujeu was killed by the first discharge of Gage's 
men, and Captain Dumas, who succeeded him in the com- 
mand, immediately rallied the Indians, and, sending them 
down the ravines, ordered them to attack the enemy on 
each flank, while he, with the French and Canadians, 
maintained his position in front. Then commenced a ter- 
rible carnage. The British, panic-struck and bewildered, 
huddled together in squads, heeded not the commands of 
their ofiicers. who were riding about madly urging them 



Frost] BRADDOCKS DEFEAT. 319 

to advance, but they only fled from one side of the field to 
be met by the fii-e of an invisible foe on the other side ; and 
then they would gather in small parties as if they hoped 
to shield themselves behind the bodies of their friends, 
firing without aim, oftener shooting down their own offi- 
cers and men than Indians. Their only hope would now 
have been to separate, rush behind the trees, and fight 
man to man with their assailants ; but Braddock insisted 
on forming them into platoons and columns, in order to 
make regular discharges, which struck only the trees or 
tore up the ground in front. The Virginians alone seemed 
to retain their senses. Notwithstanding the prohibition 
of the general, they no sooner knew the enemy with whom 
they had to deal, than they adopted the Indian mode of 
fighting, and each for himself, behind a tree, manifested 
bravery worthy of a better fate. 

Meanwhile the French and Indians, secure behind their 
natural breastAvorks, aimed deliberately first at the officers 
on horseback, and then at others, each shot bringing down 
a man. The leaders, selected by unerring aim, fell first. 
Captains Orme and Morris, two of the three aides-de-camp, 
were wounded early in the action, and Washington was 
the only person left to distribute the general's orders, which 
he was scarcely able to do, as he was not more than half 
recovered from his illness. Notwithstanding the neglect 
with which his warnings had been treated, he still aided 
the general with his mental as well as his physical powers ; 
though the troops lay thick around him in slaughtered 
heaps, he still gave the aid of salutary counsel to his ill- 
fated chief, and urged it with all the grace of eloquence 
and all the force of conviction. Eiding in ever}- direction, 
his manly form drew the attention of the savages, and 
they doomed him to destruction. The murdering rifles 
were levelled, the quick bullets flew winged with death, 



320 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frost 

and pierced his garments ; but, obedient to the Sovereign 
will, they dared not shed his blood. One chieftain es- 
pecially singled Washington out as a conspicuous mark, 
fired his rifle at him many times, and ordered his young 
warriors to do the same, until they became convinced 
that he was under the special pi'otection of the Great 
Spirit, and would never die in battle, when they desisted. 
Although four balls passed through Washington's coat, 
and two horses were shot under him, he escaped unhurt. 

Washington's conduct in the action is described by an 
eye-witness whose verbal account is thus given by Mr. 
Paulding : " I saw him take hold of a brass field-piece as 
if it had been a stick. He looked like a fury ; he tore the 
sheet-lead from the touch-hole; he placed one hand on the 
muzzle, the other on the breech ; he pulled with this, and 
he pushed with that, and wheeled it round as if it had 
been nothing. It tore the ground like a barshare. The 
powder-monkey rushed up with the fire, and then the 
cannon began to bark, I tell you. They fought and they 
fought, and the Indians began to holla, when the rest of 
the brass cannon made the bark of the trees fly, and the 
Indians come down. That place they call Eock Hill, and 
there they left five hundred men dead on the ground." 

After the slaughter had thus continued for three hours, 
General Braddock, after having three horses killed under 
him, received a shot through the right arm and the lungs, 
and was borne from the field by Colonel Gage. More 
than one-half of the soldiers who had so proudly crossed 
the river three hours before were now killed or wounded, 
and the rest, on the fall of the general, fled precipitately. 
The provincials, who were among the last to leave the 
ground, were kept in order by Washington, and served to 
cover the retreat of the regulars. The officers in general 
remained on the field while there seemed any hoj^e of 



Fkost] BRADDOCK'S DEFEAT. 321 

rallying their troops, and consequently, out of eighty-six 
engaged, sixty-three were killed or wounded. Of the pri- 
vates, seven hundred and fourteen fell. The rout was 
complete, and the more disgraceful in that it was before 
an inferior enemy, who attacked without the least hope of 
such success, and during the whole battle lost but forty 
men. Most of these were Indians killed in venturing out 
of the ravine to take scalps. 

Captain Dumas thought his force too weak to pursue the 
fugitives, who fled precipitately until they had recrossed 
the Monongahela, when, being no longer in imminent 
danger, they again formed. Colonel Washington hastened 
forward to bring up wagons and other conveyances for 
the wounded. 

General Braddock, under the particular charge of Cap- 
tain Stewart of the Virginia foi'ces, was at first conveyed 
in a tumbril ; afterwards he was placed on horseback, 
but, being unable to ride, he was obliged to be carried by 
soldiers. In this way he was transported until the night 
of the 13th, wlien they arrived within a mile of Fort 
Necessity, where he died, and was buried in his cloak, 
in the road, to elude the search of the Indians. Wash- 
ington, by the light of a torch, read the funeral service 
over his remains. 

The news of the defeat soon reached the rear division 
under Colonel Dunbar. The greatest confusion for a time 
reigned in his camp. The artillery stores were destroyed, 
the heavy baggage burned, and as soon as the fugitives 
arrived he took up the line of mai'ch with all speed for 
Philadelphia. Colonel Washington j^roceeded to Mount 
Yernon, justly indignant at the conduct of the regulars in 
the late engagement, though his own bravery and good 
conduct in the action gained him the apj)lause of all his 
countrymen. 



322 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman 

THE BATTLE AT LAKE GEORGE. 

FRANCIS PARKMAN. 

[Of the three principal operations laid out for the year 1755, that 
againt Fort Duquesne ended, as we have seen, in a disastrous defeat 
for the English. The news of this defeat put an end to the expedition 
against Fort Niagara, through the discouragement which it produced. 
The third expedition, that against Crown Point, was more successful, 
and led to an engagement of such importance as to merit a special de- 
scription. The forces selected for this purpose were militia-men from 
New England and New York, under the command of a prominent 
New-Yorker named William Johnson, a man of great iniluence with 
the Five Nations. All his influence and endeavors, however, only in- 
duced about three hundred of them to enlist for the expected battle. 
From Parkman's spirited history, entitled " Montcalm and Wolfe," 
we select an account of the events of this campaign.] 

While the British colonists were preparing to attack 
Crown Point, the French of Canada were preparing to 
defend it. Duquesne, recalled from his post, had resigned 
the government to the Marquis de Vaudreuil, who had at 
his disposal the battalions of regulars that had sailed in 
the spring from Brest under Baron Dieskau. His first 
thought was to use them for the capture of Oswego; but 
the letters of Braddock, found on the battle-field, warned 
him of the design against Crown Point, while a reconnoi- 
tring party which had gone as far as the Hudson brought 
back news that Johnson's forces were already in the field. 
Therefore the plan was changed, and Dieskau was ordered 
to lead the main body of his troops, not to Lake Ontario, 
but to Lake Champlain. He passed up the Eicheheu, and 
embarked in boats and canoes for Crown Point. The 
veteran knew that the foes with whom he had to deal 
were but a mob of countrymen. He doubted not of put- 
ting them to rout, and meant never to hold his hand till 



Pakkman] the battle AT LAKE GEORGE. 323 

he had chased them back to Albany. " Make all haste," 
Vaudreuil wrote to him ; " for when you return we shall 
send you to Oswego to execute our fii'st design." 

Johnson, on his part, was preparing to advance. In 
July about three thousand provincials were encamped near 
Albany, some on the " Flats" above the town, and some 
on the meadows below. Hither, too, came a swarm of 
Johnson's Mohawks, — warriors, squaws, and children. 
They adorned the general's face with war-paint, and he 
danced the war-dance ; then with his sword he cut the 
first slice from the ox that had been roasted whole for 
their entertainment. " I shall be glad," wrote the surgeon 
of a New England regiment, " if they fight as eagerly as 
they ate their ox and drank their wine." 

[Though promptness was of great importance, there was much delay 
in bringing the troops together. The army, though crude in its make- 
up, had in it much good material. Among the men were two who 
were destined to make their names well known in American history, — 
Israel Putnam, a private in a Connecticut regiment, and John Stark, 
a New Hampshire lieutenant, the future hero of Bennington.] 

The soldiers were no soldiers, but farmers and farmers' 
sons who had volunteered for the summer campaign. One 
of the corps had a blue uniform faced with red. The rest 
wore their daily clothing. Blankets had been served out 
to them by the several provinces, but the greater part 
brought their own guns ; some under the penalty of a 
fine if they came without them, and some under the in- 
ducement of a reward. They had no bayonets, but car- 
ried hatchets in their belts as a sort of substitute. At 
their sides were slung powder-horns, on which, in the lei- 
sure of the camp, they carved quaint devices with the 
points of their jack-knives. They came chiefly from plain 
New England homesteads, — rustic abodes, unpainted and 
dingy, with long well-sweeps, capacious barns, rough fields 



324 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman 

of pumpkins and corn, and vast kitchen-chimneys, above 
which in winter hung squashes to keep them from frost, 
and guns to keep them from rust. 

[Mohawk scouts who had been sent to Canada returned with the 
report that eight thousand men were marching to defend Crown Point. 
Indecision followed, but it was finally resolved to march to Lake 
George.] 

The train of Dutch wagons, guarded by the homely 
soldiery, jolted slowly over the stumps and roots of the 
newly-made road, and the regiments followed at their 
leisure. The hardships of the way were not without 
their consolations. The jovial Irishman who held the 
chief command made himself very agreeable to the New 
England officers. " We went on about four or five miles," 
says Pomeroy in his Journal, " then stopped, ate pieces of 
bi'oken bread and cheese, and drank some fresh lemon- 
punch and the best of wine with General Johnson and 
some of the field officers." It was the same on the next 
day. " Stopped about noon and dined with General John- 
son by a small brook under a tree ; ate a good dinner of 
cold boiled and roast venison ; drank good fresh lemon- 
punch and wine." 

That afternoon they reached their destination, fourteen 
miles from Fort Lyman. The most beautiful lake in 
America lay before them ; then more beautiful than now, 
in the wild charm of untrodden mountains and virgin 
forests. " I have given it the name of Lake George," 
wrote Johnson to the Lords of Trade, '' not only in honor 
of His Majesty, but to ascertain his undoubted dominion 
here." His men made their camp on a piece of rough 
ground by the edge of the water, pitching their tents 
among the stumps of the newly-felled trees. In their 
front was a forest of pitch-pine ; on their right, a marsh, 



Parkman] the battle AT LAKE GEORGE. 325 

choked with alders and swamp-maples ; on their left, the 
low hill where Fort George was afterwards built; and at 
their rear, the lake. Little was done to clear the forest in 
front, though it would give excellent cover to an enemy. 
Nor did Johnson take much pains to learn the movements 
of the French in the direction of Crown Point, though he 
sent scouts towards South Bay and Wood Creek. Every 
day stores and bateaux, or flat-boats, came on wagons 
from Fort Lyman ; and preparation moved on with the 
leisure that had marked it from the first. About three 
hundred Mohawks came to the camp, and were regarded 
by the New England men as nuisances. . . . 

While Johnson lay at Lake George, Dieskau prepared a 
surpi'ise for him. The German baron had reached Crown 
Point at the head of three thousand five hundred and 
seventy-three men, regulars, Canadians, and Indians. He 
had no thought of waiting there to be attacked. The 
troops were told to hold themselves ready to move at a 
moment's notice. Officers — so ran the order — will take 
nothing with them but one spare shirt, one spare pair of 
shoes, a blanket, a bearskin, and provisions for twelve 
days; Indians are not to amuse themselves by taking 
scalps till the enemy is entirely defeated, since they can 
kill ten men in the time required to scalp one. Then 
Dieskau moved on, with nearly all his force, to Carillon, 
or Ticonderoga, a promontory commanding both the 
routes by which alone Johnson could advance, that of 
Wood Creek and that of Lake George. 

The Indian allies were commanded by Legardeur de 
Saint-Pierre, the officer who had received Washington 
on his embassy to Fort Le BcBuf. These unmanageable 
warriors were a constant annoyance to Dieskau, being a 
species of humanity quite new to him. " They drive us 
crazy," he says, " from morning till night. There is no 
I. 28 



326 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman 

end to their demands. They have abeady eaten five oxen 
and as many hogs, without counting the kegs of brandy 
they have drunk. In short, one needs the patience of an 
angel to get on with these devils ; and yet one must al- 
ways foi'ce himself to seem pleased with them." 

[Dieskau, being falsely informed by a prisoner that Fort Lyman 
was indefensible, resolved on a rapid movement to seize it. He passed 
down Lake Champlain to the site of Whitehall, by canoe, and then 
took up the line of march through the forest. Word came in now 
that there was a large force encamped on Lake George, and the 
Indians decided that they would not attack the fort, but were ready 
to proceed against the camp. This movement was determined on.] 

They moved rapidly on through the waste of pines, and 
soon entered the rugged valley that led to Johnson's camp. 
On their right was a gorge where, shadowed in bushes, 
gurgled a gloomy brook ; and beyond rose the cliffs that 
buttressed the rocky heights of French Mountain, seen by 
glimpses between the boughs. On their left rose gi-adually 
the lower slopes of West Mountain. All was rock, thicket, 
and forest ; there was no open space but the road along 
which the regulars marched, while the Canadians and In- 
dians pushed their way thi-ough the woods in such order 
as the broken ground would permit. 

They were three miles from the lake, when their scouts 
brought in a prisoner who told them that a column of 
English troops was approaching. Dieskau's pre2:)arationa 
were quickly made. While the regulars halted on the 
road, the Canadians and Indians moved to the front, where 
most of them hid in the forest along the slopes of West 
Mountain, and the rest lay close among the thickets on the 
other side. Thus, when the English advanced to attack 
the regulars in front, they would find themselves caught 
in a double ambush. No sight or sound betraj^ed the 
snare ; but behind every bush crouched a Canadian or a 



ParkmanJ the battle AT LAKE GEORGE. :]27 

savage, with gun cocked and ears intent, listening for the 
tramp of the approaching column. 

The wagoners who escaped the evening before had 
reached the camp about midnight, and reported that there 
was a war-party on the road near Fort Lyman. Johnson 
had at this time twenty-two hundred effective men, besides 
his three hundred Indians. He called a council of war in 
the morning, and a resolution was taken which can only 
be explained by a complete misconception as to the forces 
of the French. It was determined to send out two detach- 
ments of five hundred men each, one towards Fort Lyman, 
and the other towards South Bay, the object being, accord- 
ing to Johnson, " to catch the enemy in their retreat." 
Hendrick, chief of the Mohawks, a brave and sagacious 
warrior, expressed his dissent after a fashion of his own. 
He picked up a stick and broke it ; then he picked up 
several sticks, and showed that together they could not be 
broken. The hint was taken, and the two detachments 
were joined in one. Still the old savage shook his head. 
" If they are to be killed," he said, " they are too many ; if 
they are to fight, they are too few." Nevertheless, he re- 
solved to share their fortunes ; and, mounting on a gun- 
carriage, he harangued his warriors with a voice so ani- 
mated and gestures so expressive that the New England 
officers listened in admiration, though they undei'stood not 
a word. One difficulty remained. He was too old and fat 
to go afoot ; but Johnson lent him a horse, which he be- 
strode, and trotted to the head of the column, followed by 
two hundred of his warriors as fast as they could grease, 
paint, and befeather themselves. . . . 

It was soon after eight o'clock when Ephraim Williams 
left the camp with his regiment, marched a little distance, 
and then waited for the rest of the detachment under 
Lieutenant-Colonel Whitiuir. Thus Dieskau had full time 



328 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman 

to lay his ambush. When Whiting came up, the whole 
moved on together, so little conscious of danger that no 
Bcouts were thrown out in front or flank; and, in full 
security, they entered the fatal snare. Before they were 
completely involved in it, the sharp eye of old Hendrick 
detected some sign of an enemy. At that instant, whether 
by accident or design, a gun was fired from the bushes. 
It is said that Dieskau's Iroquois, seeing Mohawks, their 
relatives, in the van, wished to warn them of danger. If 
so, the warning came too late. The thickets on the left 
blazed out a deadly fire, and the men fell by scores. In 
the words of Dieskau, the head of the column " was 
doubled up like a pack of cards." Hendrick's horse was 
shot down, and the chief was killed with a bayonet as he 
tried to rise. Williams, seeing a rising ground on his right, 
made for it, calling on his men to follow; but as he climbed 
the slope, guns flashed from the bushes, and a shot through 
the brain laid him dead. The men in the rear pressed 
forward to support their comi-ades, when a hot fire was 
suddenly opened on them from the forest along their 
right flank. Then there was a panic ; some fled outright, 
and the whole column recoiled. The van now became the 
rear, and all the force of the enemy rushed upon it, shout- 
ing and screeching. There was a moment of total confu- 
sion ; but a part of Williams's regiment rallied under com- 
mand of Whiting, and covered the retreat, fighting behind 
trees like Indians, and firing and falling back by turns, 
bravely aided by some of the Mohawks and by a detach- 
ment which Johnson sent to their aid. "And a very 
handsome retreat they made," writes Pomeroy ; " and so 
continued till they came within about three-quarters of a 
mile of our camp. This was the last fire our men gave 
our enemies, which killed great numbers of them ; they 
were seen to drop as pigeons." So ended the fray long 



Parkman] the battle AT LAKE GEORGE. 329 

known in New England fireside story as the " bloody 
morning scout." Dieskau now ordered a halt, and 
sounded his trumpets to collect his scattered men. His 
Indians, however, were sullen and unmanageable, and the 
Canadians also showed signs of wavering. The veteran 
who commanded them all, Legardeur de Saint-Pierre, had 
been killed. At length they were persuaded to move again, 
the regulars leading the way. 

About an hour after Williams and his men had begun 
their march, a distant rattle of musketiy was heard at the 
camp ; and as it grew neai"er and louder, the listeners knew 
that their comrades were on the retreat. Then, at the 
eleventh hour, preparations were begun for defence. A 
sort of barricade was made along the front of the camp, 
partly of wagons, and partly of inverted bateaux, but 
chiefly of the trunks of trees hastily hewn down in the 
neighboring forest and laid end to end in a single row. 
The line extended from the southern slopes of the hill on 
the left across a tract of rough ground to the marshes on 
the right. The forest, choked with bushes and clumps 
of rank ferns, was within a few yards of the barricade, 
and there was scarcely time to hack away the inter- 
vening thickets. Three cannon were planted to sweep the 
road that descended through the pines, and another was 
dragged up to the ridge of the hill. The defeated party 
began to come in : first, scared fugitives, both white and 
red ; then, gangs of men bringing the wounded ; and at 
last, an hour and a half after the first fire was heard, the 
main detachment was seen marching in compact bodies 
down the road. 

Five hundred men were detailed to guard the flanks of 

the camp. The rest stood behind the wagons or lay flat 

behind the logs and inverted bateaux, the Massachusetts 

men on the right, and the Connecticut men on the left. 

I. 28* 



330 AMERICAN HISTORT. [Parkman 

Besides Indians, tliis actual fighting force was between 
sixteen and seventeen hundred rustics, very few of whom 
had been under fire before that morning. They were 
hardly at their jjosts when they saw ranks of white-coated 
soldiers moving down the road, and bayonets that to them 
seemed innumerable glittering between the boughs. At 
the same time a terrific burst of war-whoops rose along 
the front; and, in the words of Pomeroy, "the Canadians 
and Indians, helter-skelter, the woods full of them, came 
running with undaunted courage right down the hill upon 
us, expecting to make us flee." Some of the men grew 
uneasy ; while the chief officers, sword in hand, threatened 
instant death to any who should stir from their posts. If 
Dieskau had made an assault at that instant, there could 
be little doubt of the result. 

This he well knew ; but he was powerless. He had his 
small foi'ce of regulars well in hand ; but the rest, red and 
white, were beyond control, scattering through the woods 
and swamps, shouting, yelhng, and firing from behind trees. 
The regulars advanced with intrepidity towards the camp 
where the trees were thin, deployed, and fired by platoons, 
till Captain Eyre, who commanded the artillery, opened on 
them with grape, broke their ranks, and compelled them 
to take to cover. The fusillade was now general on both 
sides, and soon grew furious. " Perhaps," Seth Pomeroy 
wrote to his wife, two days after, "the hailstones from 
heaven were never much thicker than their bullets came ; 
but, blessed be God ! that did not in the least daunt or 
disturb us." Johnson received a flesh-wound in the thigh, 
and spent the rest of the day in his tent. Lyman took 
command ; and it is a marvel that he escaped alive, for he 
was four hours in the heat of the fire, directing and ani- 
mating the men. " It was the most awful day my eyes 
ever beheld," wrote Surgeon Williams to his wife; "there 



Parkman] the battle AT LAKE GEORGE. 331 

seemed to be nothing but thunder and lightning and per- 
petual pillars of smoke." . . . 

Dieskau had directed his first attack against the left and 
centre of Johnson's position. Making no impression here, 
he tried to force the right, where lay the regiments of 
Titcomb, Euggles, and Williams. The fire was hot for 
about an hour. Titcomb was shot dead, a rod in front of 
the barricade, firing from behind a tree like a common 
soldier. At length Dieskau, exposing himself within short 
range of the English line, was hit in the leg. His adju- 
tant, Montreuil, himself wounded, came to his aid, and was 
washing the injured limb with brandy, when the unfortu- 
nate commander was hit again in the knee and thigh. He 
seated himself behind a tree, while the adjutant called two 
Canadians to carry him to the rear. One of them was in- 
stantly shot down. Montreuil took his place ; but Dieskau 
refused to be moved, bitterly denounced the Canadians and 
Indians, and ordered the adjutant to leave him and lead 
the regulars in a last effort against the camp. 

It was too late. Johnson's men. singly or in small squads, 
were already ci'ossing their row of logs ; and in a few mo- 
ments the whole dashed forward with a shout, falling upon 
the enemy with hatchets and the butts of their guns. The 
French and their ahies fled. The wounded general still 
sat helpless by the tree, when he saw a soldier aiming at 
him. He signed to the man not to fire ; but he pulled 
trigger, shot him across the hips, leaped upon him, and 
ordered him in French to surrender. " I said," writes 
Dieskau. " ' You rascal, why did you fire ? You see a man 
lying in his blood on the ground, and you shoot him !' He 
answered, ' How did I know that 3'ou had not got a pistol ? 
I had rather kill the devil than have the devil kill me.' 
' You are a Frenchman ?' I asked. ' Yes,' he replied ; ' it 
is more than ten years since I left Canada j' whereupon 



332 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman 

sevei'al others fell on me and stripped me. I told them to 
carry me to their general, which they did. On learning 
who I was, he sent for surgeons, and, though wounded 
himself, refused all assistance till my wounds were dressed." 
It was near five o'clock when the final rout took place. 
Some time before, several hundred of the Canadians and 
Indians had left the field and returned to the scene of 
the morning fight, to plunder and scalp the dead. They 
were resting themselves near a pool in the forest, close 
beside the road, when their repose was interrupted by 
a volley of bullets. It was fired by a scouting party 
from Fort Lyman, chiefly backwoodsmen, under Captains 
Folsom and McGinnis. The assailants were greatly out- 
numbered ; but after a hard fight the Canadians and In- 
dians broke and fled. McGinnis was mortally wounded. 
He continued to give orders till the firing was over, then 
fainted, and was carried, dying, to the camp. The bodies 
of the slain, according to tradition, were thrown into the 
pool, which bears to this day the name of Bloody Pond. 

[Johnson had great difficulty in preserving the life of Dieskau, the 
Mohawks, who were furious at the death of Hendrick, making sev- 
eral efforts to kill him. The wounded baron, however, survived to 
reach England, where he recovered sufficiently to live for several years, 
though wretchedly shattered by his wounds. 

The success attained by Johnson was not improved. He failed to 
follow the flying foe, on the excuse that his men were tired. Yet five 
hundred of them had stood still all day, and there were boats enough 
to transport them to where Dieskau had left his canoes and provisions, 
ten miles down the lake. Nor did he send out scouts to Ticonderoga 
till a week afterwards. On the contrary, he intrenched himself against 
a possible assault, and let two weeks pass away, by the end of which 
time the enemy was intrenched at Ticonderoga in force enough to defy 
him. Thus the expedition against Crown Point, though attended with 
such an incidental success, proved a failure. Johnson remained a 
month longer at the lake, when he sent his army home. With the art 
of the courtier, he changed the name of Fort Lyman to Fort Edward, 



Hannay] the expulsion OF THE ACADIANS. 333 

after one of the king's grandsons, and called his new fort at Lake 
George William Henry, after another. As a result of his victory and 
his policy he received five thousand pounds from Parliament and was 
made a baronet by the king.] 



THE EXPULSION OF THE ACADIANS. 

JAMES HANNAY. 

[The year of the conflicts last described was marked by another 
event of great importance, and one which has aroused more feeling 
than any other circumstance of the war. This was the removal of the 
French settlers from Acadia, and their dispei-sion through the English 
settlements. This event has been treated mainly from the stand-point 
of sentiment, the cruelty of the deportation strongly dwelt on, and the 
action of the English regarded as indefensible. A calmer and fuller 
review of the circumstances gives a new face to the situation, and 
shows that the English action, though it proved of little utility, had 
much warrant in the circumstances of the case. We extract an ac- 
count of this deportation from Hannay's valuable " History of Acadia." 

It was preceded by certain military events which need to be out- 
lined. About the last of May, 1755, Colonel Monckton sailed from 
Boston, with three thousand troops, with the design of reducing the 
French settlements on the Bay of Fundy, which were considered as 
encroachments on the English province of Nova Scotia. This prov- 
ince, the Acadia of a former period, had been talcen by the English 
in 1710, and was ceded to the English government by the treaty of 
Utrecht in 1713. The French, however, had steadily encroached upon 
the peninsula, and had strengthened themselves by forts on its New 
Brunswick border, from which a hostile influence disseminated itself 
through the French population of the peninsula. Monckton 's expe- 
dition was successful in reducing these forts. A block-house on Chig- 
necto Bay was first carried by assault, and then Fort Beausejour, a 
strong post on the neck of the peninsula, was invested, and taken after 
a four days' siege. Fort Gaspereau, on Green Bay, was next captured, 
after which the French abandoned their post on the St. John's River. 



334 AMERICAN HISTORY [Hannay 

As the hostility of the Acadians to British rule continued unabated, 
and as their presence endangered the security of the province, it was 
resolved to remove them and endeavor to replace them by settlers 
loyal to the British government. The circumstances of this removal 
we append in the words of Mr. Hannay.] 

The English, after a possession of Acadia which lasted 
nearly forty yeai'S, had not svicceeded in founding a single 
English settlement or adding to the English-speaking popu- 
lation of the province. The French Acadians, on the other 
hand, had gone on increasing and spreading themselves 
over the land. They were strong and formidable, not only 
by reason of their number, but because of their knowledge 
of wood-craft, of the management of canoes, and of many 
other accomplishments which are essential to those who 
would live in a forest countr}^, and which were almost 
indispensable qualifications for soldiers in such a land as 
Acadia. All that the English had to show for their thirty- 
nine years' occupation of the country were the fortifica- 
tions of Annapolis and a ruined fishing-station at Canso. 
All the substantial gains of that time belonged to France, 
for the Acadians w^ere neai'ly three times as numerous as 
when Port Eoyal fell, and they were quite as devoted to 
the interests of France as their fathers had been. Acadia 
in 1749 was as much a French colony as it had been forty 
years before. The only diff'erence was that the English 
were at the expense of maintaining a garrison instead of 
the French, and that they sometimes issued orders to the 
inhabitants, which the latter very seldom chose to obej-. 

[Of the various schemes to give Acadia an English population all 
proved failures, except that of 1749, in which a large colony was es- 
tablished at a point hitherto unoccupied, where a town rapidly arose 
from which has sprung the present city of Halifax. The Acadians, 
however, steadily refused to take the oath of allegiance to Great 
Britain, and, while professing to be neutral between the English and 



Hannay] the expulsion OF THE ACADIANS. 335 

the French, secretly abetted the latter. Three hundred of them were 
found in Fort Beausejour when captured, and their hostility to the. 
English was pronounced.] 

The event for which the year 1755 will be ever memo- 
rable in the history of this continent was not the capture 
of Beausejour, nor the defeat of Brftddock. These were 
results which occurred in the ordinary course of warfare, 
and which grew naturally out of the struggle which Eng- 
land and France were waging in America. Our interest 
in them is merel}^ the interest of patriotism; we feel no 
sympathy for the individual soldier who lays down his 
life for his country, for it is the business of the soldier to 
fight and to die, and to some a death on the field of battle 
which is lighted by the sun of victory seems the happiest 
death of all. The event which gives the year 1755 a sad 
pre-eminence over its fellows — the expulsion of the Aca- 
dians — was an occurrence of a very different character. 
The sufferers were men who were, or ought to have been, 
non-combatants, and in the common ruin which overtook 
them their wives and children were involved. The break- 
ing up of their domestic hearths, their severance from 
their property, the privations they endured when driven 
among strangers, and the numberless ills which overtook 
them as the result of their first misfortune, have an inter- 
est for the people of every nation, for they appeal to our 
common humanity. It seems at the first view of the 
case an outrage on that humanity and a grievous wrong 
that such an occurrence as the expulsion of the Acadians 
should have taken place merely from political motives. 
The misfortunes and sufferings of the Acadians stand out 
prominently, and appeal to ever}^ eye; a great poet has 
sung of their sorrows ;* innumerable writers of books have 

* Lontrfellow, in " Evans-eline." 



336 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hannat 

referred to their expulsion in terms of condemnation ; and 
80 the matter has grown until it came to be almost a set- 
tled ojDinion that the expulsion of the Acadians was some- 
thing which could not be justified, and of which its au- 
thors should have been ashamed. That is the view whicii 
one historian of Nova Scotia gives of the affair. Perhaps 
those who examine the whole matter impartially, in the 
light of all the facts, will come to the conclusion that it 
would have been a real cause for shame had the Acadians 
been permitted longer to misuse the clemency of the gov- 
ernment, to plot against British power, and to obstruct 
the settlement of the province by loyal subjects. 

One statement has been very industriously circulated 
by French writers with a view to throw odium on the 
transaction. They say that the Acadians were expelled 
" because the greedy English colonists looked upon their 
fair farms with covetous eyes," and that the government 
was influenced by these pei'sons. A more flagrant untruth 
never was told. . . . None of the lands of the Acadians 
were settled by the English until several years after the 
French were expelled, and not until most of the lands had 
gone back to a state of nature in consequence of the 
breaking of the dikes. . . , Five years elapsed after the 
expulsion befoi-e the noble diked lands of Grand Pre were 
occupied by English settlers, and the lands of Annapolis 
were not occupied by the English until nine or ten years 
after the French had left them. . . . From motives of 
economy, if for no other reason, it was considei'ed highl}- 
desirable that the Acadians should remain on their lands, 
in order that they might supply the garrisons with pro- 
visions at a fair price, and so reduce the cost of maintain- 
ing them. It was also felt that the French, if they could 
be induced to become loyal subjects, would be a great 
source of strength to the colony, from their knowledge 



Hannay] the EXPULSIOy OF THE ACADIANS. 337 

of wood-craft and from their friendly relations with the 
Indians. It was, therefore, on no pretext that this desire 
to keep the French in the province — which is attested by 
more than forty yeai's of forbearance — was succeeded by 
a determination to remove them from it. . . . It must be 
remembered that in 1755 England was entering on a great 
war with France, which, although it ended disastrously 
for the latter power, certainly commenced with the bal- 
ance of advantage in her favor. In such a death-struggle, 
it was evident that there was no room for half-way meas- 
ures, and that a weak polic}' would almost certainly be 
fatal to British power. Ever since the treaty- of Utrecht, 
a period of more than forty years, the Acadians had lived 
on their lands without complying with the terms on which 
they were to be permitted to retain them, which was to 
become British subjects. Although the soil upon which 
they lived was British territory, they claimed to be re- 
garded as " Neutrals," not liable to be called upon to bear 
arms either for or against the English. Their neutrality, 
however, did not prevent them from aiding the French to 
the utmost of their power and throwing every possible 
embarrassment in the way of the English. It did not 
prevent many of them from joining with the Indians in 
attacks on the garrison at Annapolis and on other Eng- 
lish fortified posts in Acadia. It did not prevent them 
from carrying their cattle and grain to Louisburg, Beau- 
sejour, and the river St. John, instead of to Halifax and 
Annapolis, when England and France were at war. It 
did not j^revent them from maintaining a constant corre- 
spondence with the enemies of England, or from acting 
the part of spies on the English and keeping Vergor at 
Beausejour informed of the exact state of their garrisons 
from time to time. It did not prevent them from being 
on friendl}^ terms with the savages, who beset the English 
1. — p w 29 



338 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hannat 

SO closely that an English settler could scarcely venture 
beyond his barn, or an English soldier beyond musket- 
shot of his fort, for fear of being killed and scalped. 

[The Acadians seem to have been badly advised. No interference 
was attempted with their religion, yet some of their priests acted as 
political agents of France, used all their influence to keep alive hos 
tility to the English, and induced many of the inhabitants to emigrate 
from the province. Several thousand Acadians in all thus emigrated, 
fourteen hundred of whom, led by a French officer, remained on the 
borders of the province, armed, and reinforced by a large body of In- 
dians. This fiict made the authorities more persistent in their efforts 
to force the inhabitants to take the oath of allegiance, and induced 
them to adopt measures to disarm them. Acadian deputies soon after 
came to Halifax, demanding that their guns should be restored, but 
persistently refusing to take the oath " to be faithful and loyal to his 
majesty George Second." Other negotiations ensued, but the deputies 
were determined to take no oath except one with a reservation that 
they should not be obliged to take up arms. Governor Lawrence in- 
sisted that they should become full British subjects, or they could not 
be permitted to remain in the country, declaring that they had always 
secretly aided the Indians, and many of them openly taken up arms 
against the British. To this they replied that they were determined, 
one and all, to quit their lands rather than take any other oath than 
that they had already taken. 

On Monday, the 28th of July, the final memorial of the inhabitants 
was received. They all firmly refused to take the unconditional oath 
of allegiance to the British government. In consequence, it was de- 
cided to expel them from the province.] 

The determination to remove the Acadians having been 
taken, it only remained to make such arrangements as 
seemed necessary to cany out the object effectually. The 
council decided that, in order to prevent them from re- 
turning and again molesting the English settlers, they 
should be distributed amongst the colonies from Massachu- 
setts to Virginia. On the 31st July, Governor Lawrence 
wrote to Colonel Monckton, stating the determination of 



Hannay] the expulsion OF THE ACADIANS. 339 

the government with reference to the Acadians, and in- 
forming him that as those about the isthmus had been 
found in arms, and were therefore entitled to no favor 
from the government, it was determined to begin with 
them first. He was informed that orders had been given 
to send a sufficient number of transports up the bay to 
take the Acadians of that district on board. Monckton 
was ordered to keep the measure secret until he could get 
the men into his power, so that he could detain them until 
the transports arrived. He was directed to secure their 
shallops, boats, and canoes, and to see that none of their 
cattle was driven away, they being forfeited to the crown. 
He was told that the inhabitants were not to be allowed 
to carry away anything but their ready money and house- 
hold furniture. He likewise received explicit directions 
as to the supply of provisions for the inhabitants while on 
the voyage. 

Lieutenant-Colonel Winslow, who was commanding the 
troops at Mines, received instructions relative to the re- 
moval of the Acadians in that district, dated the 11th 
August. He was told to collect the inhabitants together, 
and place them on boai'd the transports, of which there 
would be a number sufficient to transport two thousand 
persons, five hundred of whom were to be sent to North 
Carolina, one thousand to Virginia, and five hundred to 
Maryland. After the people were shipped he was ordered 
to march overland to Annapolis with a strong detachment 
to assist Major Handfield in removing the inhabitants of 
that river. Handfield's instructions were similar to those 
of Winslow, and he was informed that vessels sufficient to 
transport one thousand persons would be sent to Annapolis. 
Of these, three hundred were to be sent to Philadelphia, 
two hundred to New York, three hundred to Connecticut, 
and two hundred to Boston. 



340 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hannay 

[Each master of a transport bore a circular letter from Governor 
Lawrence to the governor of the province to which he was destined, 
giving his reasons for this extreme measure. These reasons were those 
alread}'' given, that the Acadians had persistently refused to take the 
oath prescribed by treaty forty years before, that their claim of neu- 
trality was a false one, that they had continually furnished the French 
and Indians with intelligence, provisions, and aid in annoying the 
English, that part of them had acted treacherously and part had 
broken into armed rebellion, that to drive them into Canada would 
but strengthen the enemy, and that the step taken was indispensably 
necessary to the security of the colony.] 

The work of removing the Acadians met with no success 
at Chignecto, where the population was large and compara- 
tively warlike. Boishebert, after being driven from the 
St. John, had betaken himself to Shediac, and from there 
he directed the movements of the Acadians of the isthmus. 
"When the English tried to collect the inhabitants for the 
pui-pose of removing them, they found that they had fled 
to the shelter of the woods, and when they attempted to 
follow them they were met by the most determined resist- 
ance. On the 2d September, Major Frye was sent with 
two hundred men from the garrison at Fort Cumberland 
[formerly Fort Beausejour] to burn the villages of Shepody, 
Petitcodiac, and Memramcook. At Shepody they burnt one 
hundred and eighty-one buildings, but found no inhabi- 
tants, except twenty-three women and children, whom 
they sent on board the vessel they had with them. They 
sailed up the Petitcodiac Eiver on the following day and 
burnt the buildings on both sides of it for miles. At 
length the vessel was brought to anchor, and fifty men 
were sent on shore to burn the chapel and some other 
buildings near it, when suddenly they were attacked by 
three hundred French and Indians under Boishebert and 
compelled to retreat with a loss of twenty-three men 
killed and* wounded, including Dr. March, who was killed, 



Haxnay] the expulsion OF THE ACADIANS. 341 

and Lieutenant Billings, dangerously wounded. Boishe- 
bert was found to be too strong to be attacked even with 
the aid of the main body of troops under Major Frye, so 
the party had to return to Fort Cumberland, after having 
destroyed in all two hundred and fifty-three buildings and 
a large quantity of wheat and flax. 

At Mines Lieutenant-Colonel Winslow succeeded in ac- 
complishing his unpleasant duty without resistance. On 
the 2d September he issued an order to the inhabitants of 
the districts of Gi'and Pre, Mines, River Canard, and vi- 
cinity, commanding all the males from ten years upward 
to attend at the church in Grand Pre on the following 
Friday, the 5th September, to hear what his majesty had 
authorized him to communicate to them. The inhabitants 
attended in obedience to this summons to the number of 
upwards of four hundred, and were informed by Winslow 
that, in consequence of their disobedience, their lands and 
tenements, cattle, live-stock, and all their effects, excejDt 
their money and household goods, were forfeited to the 
crown, and they themselves were to be removed from the 
province. He told them, however, that he would take in 
the vessels with them as large a portion of their household 
effects as could be carried, and that families would not be 
separated, but conveyed in the same vessel. Finally, he 
told them that they should remain prisoners at the church 
until the time came for them to embark. At Piziquid, 
Captain Murray collected the male inhabitants in the same 
way to the number of nearly two hundred, and kept them 
in confinement. Considering the situation in which they 
were placed, they manifested but little emotion, and offered 
no resistance worthy of the name. The task of getting so 
many families together, and embarking them with their 
household effects, proved tedious, but finally it was accom- 
plished, and the inhabitants of Mines and Piziquid, to the 
I 29* 



342 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hannat 

number of more than nineteen hundred persons, were got 
on board the transports, and carried away from their homes 
in Acadia to lands of which they knew nothing, and where 
their presence was not desired. 

At AnnapoHs many families took the alarm when the 
transj)ort8 arrived, and fled to the woods for safety, and 
much difficulty was experienced in collecting them. Hun- 
ger finally compelled most of them to surrender themselves, 
and upwards of eleven hundred were placed on board the 
vessels and sent away. One vessel with two hundred and 
twenty-six Acadians on board was seized by them in the 
Ba}' of Fundy, and taken into St. John, and the passen- 
gers she carried were not afterwards recaptured. The 
total number removed from Acadia in 1755 was somewhat 
in excess of three thousand souls. Some of them were 
taken to Massachusetts, some to Pennsylvania, some to 
Virginia, some to Maryland, some to North and South 
Carolina, and some even to the British "West Indies. 
Wherever they were taken they became for the time a 
public charge upon the colony, and were the occasion of 
much correspondence between the governments which were 
obliged to maintain them and that of Nova Scotia. Many 
of those who went to Georgia and South Carolina hired 
small vessels and set out to return to Acadia, and the gov- 
ernors of those colonies were very glad to facilitate their 
movements northward by giving them passes to voyage 
along their coasts. Several hundred of those who landed 
in Yirginia were sent by the government of that colony 
to England, where they remained for seven years, finally 
taking the oath of allegiance, and manj' of them returning 
to Acadia. A number of these people went from Virginia 
to the French West Indies, where they died in large num- 
bers. The great bulk of the Acadians, however, finally 
succeeded in returnino- to the land of their birth. Some 



Hannay] the expulsion OF THE ACADIANS. 343 

got back in the course of a few months, others did not 
succeed in returning until many years had elapsed, yet 
they succeeded, nevertheless, and the ultimate loss of pop- 
ulation by their enforced emigration in 1755 was much less 
than would be supposed. 

[It must be admitted that the preceding narrative is, to a consider- 
able extent, a case of special pleading, by a writer determined to put 
the best face on a bad matter. The deportation of a whole people, 
against their consent, of which there are many cases in history, is 
necessarily attended with hardship and suffering which only the most 
extreme need can justify. It cannot fairly be said that this need ex- 
isted in the case of the Acadians. Though some of them were actively 
hostile to the English, the bulk of the people were quiet, industrious, 
and inoffensive, and the extent of their crime was that they refused to 
take an oath that would oblige them to bear arms against their coun- 
tr_yinen. The expulsion was one of those instances in which, it being 
difficult to distinguish between the sheep and the wolves, they are 
made to suffer together. The position of the English was an awkward 
one, and their action, though it occasioned much suffering and proved 
of no special utility, had much good argument in its favor. 

The resistance of the Acadians continued for twelve years longer, 
and not till 1767 did any considerable number of them consent to take 
the oath of allegiance required, though the whole country had long 
been English. Many of them had emigrated to the French West 
Indies. Of these a considerable number returned, disgusted with the 
government of those islands, and fully ready to take the oath. Others, 
who were surrounded by English colonies, did likewise. Each family, 
on doing so, received a grant of land from the government, and soon 
there arose an eagerness to take the oath of allegiance to England 
equal to the former determination to resist it.] 



344 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmbs 

THREE YEARS OF WARFARE. 

ABIEL HOLMES. 

[The succeeding events of the war between the colonies we shall de- 
scribe with more brevity, lest the reader grow wearied with the details 
of battle and bloodshed which constitute all there is to offer. The 
year 1755 had ended with a balance of advantages between the two 
contestants. In the two years succeeding all the advantage lay with 
the French, and it was not until 1758 that the English began to make 
head against their opponents, in preparation for the decisive operations 
of the following year. The events of the years 1756, 1757, and 1758 
are briefly but clearly described in Holmes's " Annals of America," a 
useful old work from which we make our present selection. 

Although the war had continued for two years in America, and been 
actively aided by the home powers, no declaration of war was made 
until 1756, the English king declaring war against France on ilay 17, 
, and the French king replying with a like declaration in the following 
month. Both powers now took more active measures to support the 
Avar. The Earl of Loudoun was appointed commander-in-chief of the 
British forces in America, while the Marquis de Montcalm took com- 
mand of the French forces in Canada. General Abercrombie was 
sent over in advance of Lord Loudoun, to take immediate command. 
Three expeditions were planned for the year's campaign, one of ten 
thousand men against Crown Point, one of six thousand against Ni- 
agara, and one of three thousand against Fort Duquesne. In addi- 
tion, two thousand men were to advance up the Kennebec Eiver and 
keep Canada in alarm. These forces were considerably greater than 
had hitherto been employed in America.] 

The command of the expedition against Crown Point 
was given to Major-General Winslow, who, on reviewing 
the provincial troops destined for that service, found them 
not much to exceed seven thousand men, — a number which, 
after deducting from it the necessary garrisons, was de- 
clared inadequate to the enterprise. The arrival of Brit- 
ish troops with General Abercrombie, while it relieved this 



Holmes] THREE YEARS OF WARFARE. 345 

aifficulty, created a new one, which occasioned a tempo- 
ral'}' suspension of the projected expedition. The regula- 
tions of the crown respecting miUtaiy rank had excited 
great disgust in America ; and Winslow, when consulted 
on this delicate subject by Abercrombie, expressed his 
apprehensions that, if the result of a junction of British 
and provincial troops should be the placing of provincials 
under British oiEcers, it would produce very general dis- 
content, and perhaps desertion. To avoid so serious an evil, 
it was finally agreed that British troops should succeed the 
provincials in the posts then occupied by them, so as to 
enable the whole colonial force to proceed under Winslow 
against Crown Point. . . . Scarcely was this point of 
honor satisfactorily adjusted, when the attention of both 
British and provincial soldiers was arrested to a more 
serious subject. 

M. Montcalm, who succeeded the baron Dieskau in the • 
chief command of the French forces in Canada, approached 
Fort Ontario at Oswego on the 10th of August with more 
than five thousand regulars, Canadians, and Indians. 
Having made the necessary dispositions, he opened the 
trenches on the 12th at midnight, with thirty-two pieces 
of cannon, besides several brass mortars and howitzers. 
The garrison having fired away all their shells and am- 
munition. Colonel Mercer, the commanding officer, oi'dered 
the cannon to be spiked up, and crossed the river to Little 
Oswego Fort, without the loss of a single man. The 
enemy, taking immediate possession of the deserted fort, 
began a fire from it which was kept up without intermis- 
sion. About four miles and a half up the river was Fort 
George, the defence of which was committed to Colonel 
Schuyler. On the abandonment of the first fort by Colonel 
Mercer, about three hundred and seventy of his men had 
joined Colonel Schuyler, in the intention of having an 



346 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes 

intercourse between his fort and that to which their own 
commander retreated ; but a body of twenty -five hundred 
Canadians and Indians boldly swam across the river in the 
night between the 13th and 14th and cut off that commu- 
nication. On the 13th, Colonel Mercer was killed by a 
cannon-ball. The garrison, deprived of their commander, 
who was an officer of courage and experience, frustrated 
in their hope of aid, and destitute of a cover to their fort, 
demanded a capitulation on the following day, and surren- 
dered as prisoners of war. They were the regiments of 
Shirley and Pepperell, and amounted to fourteen hundred 
men. The conditions required, and acceded to, were that 
they should be exempted from plunder, conducted to 
Montreal, and ti*eated with humanity. No sooner was 
Montcalm in possession of the two forts at Oswego than, 
with admirable policy, he demolished them in presence of 
• the Indians of the Six Nations, in whose country they 
had been erected, and whose jealousy they had excited. 

On this disastrous event, every plan of offensive operation 
was immediately relinquished. 

[All the forces which had been raised remained on the defensive, in 
anticipation of possible advances by the French. The only active 
operation was against the Indians of western Pennsylvania, who, 
since the event of Braddock's defeat, had severely raided the outlying 
settlements.] 

Fort Granby, on the confines of Pennsylvania, was sur- 
prised by a party of French and Indians, who made the 
garrison prisoners. Instead of scalping the captives, they 
loaded them with flour, and drove them into captivity. 
The Indians on the Ohio, having killed above a thousand 
of the inhabitants of the western frontiers, were soon 
chastised with military vengeance. Colonel Armstrong, 
with a party of two hundi'ed and eighty provincials, 



Holmes] THREE YEARS OF WARFARE. 347 

marched from Fort Shirley, which had been built on the 
Juniata Eiver, about one hundred and fifty miles west of 
Philadelphia, to Kittanning, an Indian town, the rendez- 
vous of those murdering Indians, and destroyed it. Captain 
Jacobs, the Indian chief, defended himself through loop- 
holes of his log-house. The Indians refusing the quarter 
which was offered them. Colonel Armstrong ordered their 
houses to be set on fire ; and many of the Indians were 
suffocated and burnt ; others were shot in attempting to 
reach the river. The Indian captain, his squaw, and a 
boy called the King's Son were shot as they were getting 
out of the window, and were all scalped. It was computed 
that between thirty and forty Indians were destroyed. 
Eleven English prisoners were released. 

[The plan of proceedings for the year 1757 was less complex than 
that for the preceding year, but was no more successful. Leaving the 
frontier posts strongly garrisoned, Lord Loudoun determined on the 
siege of the highly-important fortress of Louisburg, on Cape Breton, 
with all his disposable force. But after reaching Halifax with his 
fleet and army he learned that Louisburg was garrisoned with six 
thousand French regulars, in addition to the provincials, and that 
seventeen line-of-battle ships were in the harbor. This destroyed all 
hope of success, and the expedition was abandoned. In September, 
the British fleet, cruising ofl" Louisburg, narrowly escaped destruction 
from a violent gale, which drove one frigate ashore and seriously injured 
most of the others. The only military advantage of the year was 
gained by the French under Montcalm, in an expedition against Fort 
William Henry, which had been erected by Johnson at the scene of 
his victory two years before.] 

The Marquis de Montcalm, availing himself of the ab- 
sence of the principal part of the British force, advanced 
with an army of nine thousand men and laid siege to Fort 
William Henry. The garrison at this fort consisted of be- 
tween two thousand and three thousand regulars, and its 
fortifications were strong and in very good order. For the 



348 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes 

farther security of this important post, General Webb was 
stationed at Fort Edward with an army of four thousand 
men. The French commander, however, urged his ap- 
proaches with such vigor that, within six days after the 
investment of the fort, Colonel Monroe, the commandant, 
after a spirited resistance, surrendered b}^ capitulation. 
The garrison was to be allowed the honors of war, and to 
be protected against the Indians until within the reach of 
Fort Edward; but no sooner had the soldiers left the 
place than the Indians in the French army, disregarding 
the stipulation, fell upon them and committed the most 
cruel outrages. 

The British officers complained that the troops wei*e pil- 
laged, and that the men were dragged out of the ranks 
and tomahawked, before the exertions of the Marquis de 
Montcalm to restrain the savages were effectual. Carver 
says the captured troops were, by the capitulation, to be 
allowed covered wagons to transj^ort their baggage to Fort 
f]dward, and a guard to protect them; that the promised 
guard was not furnished ; and that fifteen hundred persons 
were either killed or made prisoners by the Indians. . . . 
Miuot says, " The breach of this capitulation, whether vol- 
untary or unavoidable on the part of the French, was a 
most interesting subject of reproach at the time, and long 
continued to fill the British colonists with indignation and 
horror." A great part of the prisoners, he observes, were 
pillaged and stripped, and many of them murdered, by the 
savages; some reached Fort Edward in a scattering man- 
ner, and others returned again to the French. 

[This disastrous event has seriously tarnished the fair fame of the 
Marquis de Montcahn. To what extent he and his officers intervened 
to stop the butchery is uncertain, but there is good reason to believe 
that the French in general permitted the massacre to go on with scarce 
an effort to stop it. General Webb is also severely blamed by his- 



Holmes] THREE YEARS OF WARFARE. 349 

torians for not reinforcing Monroe, and is accused of cowardice, for 
which accusation his behavior gave abundant warrant. The mas- 
sacre was the more terrible in that there were many women and chil- 
dren in the retreating column, who were killed indiscriminately with 
the men. The Indians present with the English were taken pris- 
oners by their foes and reserved for the more horrible fate of death by 
torture. 

The year 1158 opened gloomily for the British colonies. The suc- 
cesses of the year before had all been in favor of the French, and 
they now occupied positions which gave them special advantages in 
the continuance of the war. The taking of Oswego had destroyed all 
English control of the Northern lakes ; the capture of Fort "William 
Henry gave the French possession of Lakes Champlain and George, 
and a position in the heart of the British territory ; and the retention 
of Fort Duquesne gave them possession of the country west of the 
Alleghanies, and enabled them to exert a powerful influence over the 
Indians. Yet, despite this gloomy aspect of affairs, the British pre- 
pared for the next year's campaign with unabated energy and courage. 
William Pitt, now prime minister of England, put all his vigor and 
ability into the prosecution of the war. Twelve thousand troops were 
sent over under General Amherst, and General Abercrombie, who was 
now made commander-in-chief of the British forces, was at the head 
of much the greatest army as yet ever seen in America, consisting 
of fifty thousand men, of whom twenty-two thousand were regular 
troops.] 

Three expeditions were proposed for this year : the first, 
against Louisburg ; the second, against Ticonderoga and 
Crown Point ; and the third, against Fort Duquesne. On 
the first expedition, Admiral Boscawen sailed from Hali- 
fax on the 28th of May, with a fleet of twenty ships of 
the line and eighteen frigates, and an army of fourteen 
thousand men under the command of General Amherst, 
and arrived before Louisburg on the 2d of June. The gar- 
rison of that place, commanded by the Chevalier de Dra- 
court, an officer of courage and experience, Avas composed 
of two thousand five hundred regulai-s, aided by six hun- 
dred militia. The harbor being secured by five ships of 
I. 30 



350 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes 

the line, one fifty-gun ship, and five frigates, three of 
which were sunk across the mouth of the basin, it was 
found necessary to land at some distance from the town. 
When, with some difiiculty but little loss, the landing was 
effected at the creek of Cormoran, and the artillery and 
stores were brought on shore, General "Wolfe was detached 
with two thousand men to seize a post occupied by the 
enemy at the Lighthouse point, from which the ships in 
the harbor and the fortifications in the town might be 
greatly annoyed. On the approach of that gallant officer, 
the post was abandoned ; and several very strong batteries 
were erected there. Approaches were also made on the 
opposite side of the town, and the siege was pressed with 
resolute but slow and cautious vigor. A very heavy can- 
nonade being kept up against the town and the vessels in 
the harbor, a bomb at length set on fire and blew up one 
of the great ships, and the flames were communicated to 
two others, which shared the same fate. The English 
admiral now sent six hundred men in boats into the har- 
bor, to make an attempt on the two ships of the line 
which still remained in the basin ; and one of them, that 
was aground, was destroyed, and the other was towed off 
in triumph. This gallant exploit putting the English in 
complete possession of the harbor, and several breaches 
being made practicable in the works, the place was deemed 
no longer defensible, and the governor offered to capitu- 
late. His terms, however, were refused ; and it was re- 
quired that the garrison should surrender as prisoners 
of war, or sustain an assault by sea and land. These hu- 
miliating terms, though at first rejected, were afterwards 
acceded to ; and Louisburg, with all its artillery, provis- 
ions, and military stores, as also Island Eoyal, St. John's, 
and their dependencies, were placed in the hands of the 
English, who, without further difficulty, took entire pos- 



Holmes] THREE YEARS OF WARFARE. 351 

session of the island of Caj^e Breton. In effecting this 
conquest about four hundred of the assailants were killed 
or wounded. The conquerors found two hundred and 
twentj^-one pieces of cannon and eighteen mortars, with 
a very large quantity of stores and ammunition. The in- 
habitants of Cape Breton were sent to France in English 
ships; but the garrison, sea-officers, sailors, and marines, 
amounting collectively to five thousand six hundred and 
thirty-seven, were carried prisoners to England. The gar- 
rison lost upwards of fifteen hundred men, and the town 
was left '■' almost a heap of ruins." 

The armies intended for the execution of the plans 
against Ticonderoga and Fort Duquesne were to rendez- 
vous at Albany and Philadelphia. The first was com- 
manded by General Abercrombie, and consisted of upwards 
of fifteen thousand men, attended by a formidable train 
of artillery. On the 5th of July the general embarked 
his troops on Lake Geoi'ge, on board of one hundred and 
twenty-five whale-boats and nine hundred bateaux. His 
first operations were against Ticonderoga. After debarka- 
tion at the landing-place in a cove on the west side of the 
lake, the troops were formed into four columns, the British 
in the centre and the provincials on the flanks. In this 
order they marched towards the advanced guard of the 
French, which, consisting of one battalion only, posted in a 
logged camp, destroyed what was in their power and made 
a precipitate retreat. While Abercrombie was continuing 
his march in the woods, towards Ticonderoga, the columns 
were thrown into confusion, and in some degree entangled 
with each other. At this juncture. Lord Howe, at the head 
of the right centre column, fell in with a part of the ad- 
vanced guard of the enemy which was lost in the wood in 
retreating from Lake George, and immediately attacked 
and dispersed it, killing a considerable number, and taking 



352 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes 

one hundred and forty-eight prisoners. In this skirmish, 
Lord Howe fell on the first fire. 

The English army, without farther opposition, took pos- 
session of a post within two miles of Ticonderoga. Aber- 
crombie, having learned from the prisoners the strength 
of the enemy at that fortress, and from an engineer the 
condition of their works, resolved on an immediate storm, 
and made instant disposition for an assault. The troops, 
having received orders to march up briskly, rush upon the 
enemy's fire, and reserve their own till they had passed a 
breastwork, marched to the assault with great intrepidity. 
Unlooked-for impediments, however, occurred. In front 
of the breastwork, to a considerable distance, trees had 
been felled with their branches outward, many of which 
were sharpened to a point, by means of which the as- 
sailants were not only retarded in their advance, but, be- 
coming entangled among the boughs, were exposed to a 
very galling fire. Finding it imj^racticable to pass the 
breastwork, which was eight or nine feet high, and much 
stronger than had been represented, General Abercrombie, 
after a contest of nearly four hours, ordered a retreat, and 
the next day resumed his former camp on the south side 
of Lake George. In this ill-judged assault nearly two 
thousand of the assailants were killed and wounded, of 
which number towards four hundred were provincials. 
Almost half of the Highland regiment, commanded by 
Lord John Murray, with twenty-five of its officers, were 
either killed or desperately wounded. The loss of the 
enemy, who were covered during the whole action, was 
inconsiderable. 

[This severe defeat put an end to the expedition against Crown 
Point. One success, however, was gained. Abercrombie detached 
three thousand men under Colonel Bradstreet on an expedition which 
the colonel had proposed against Fort Frontenac, an important post on 



Holmes] THREE YEARS OF WARFARE. 353 

the western shore of the outlet of Lake Ontario, at the site of the 
present city of Kingston. Bradstreet marched to Oswego, embarked 
on the hike, and landed near the fort on August 25. Two days' siege 
compelled a surrender, and the post with all its contents fell into his 
hands. Having destroyed it, and the vessels in the harbor, he with- 
drew his forces.] 

The demolition of Fort Frontenac facilitated the reduc- 
tion of Fort Duquesne. General Forbes, to whom this 
enterprise was intrusted, had marched early in July from 
Philadelphia at the head of the army destined for the 
expedition ; but such delays were experienced, it was not 
until September that the Virginia regulars, commanded 
by Colonel Washington, were ordered to join the British 
troops at Raj'stown. Before the army was put in motion, 
Major Grant was detached with eight hundred men, partly 
British and partly provincials, to reconnoitre the fort and 
the adjacent country. Having invited an attack from the 
French garrison, this detachment was surrounded by the 
enemy ; and after a brave defence, in which three hundred 
men were killed and wounded. Major Grant and nineteen 
other officers were taken prisoners. General Forbes, with 
the main army, amounting to at least eight thousand men, 
at length moved forward from Raystown, but did not 
reach Fort Duquesne until late in November. On the 
evening preceding his arrival, the French garrison, de- 
serted by their Indians, and unequal to the maintenance 
of the place against so formidable an army, had abandoned 
the fort, and escaped in boats down the Ohio. The Eng- 
lish now took possession of that important fortress, and, 
in compliment to the popular minister, called it Pittsburg. 
No sooner was the British flag erected on it than the nu- 
merous tribes of the Ohio Indians came in and made their 
submission to the English. General Forbes, having con- 
cluded treaties with these natives, left a garrison of pro- 
x.—x 30* 



354 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes 

vincials in the fort, and built a block-house near Loyal 
Hannan ; but, worn out with fatigue, he died before he 
could reach Philadelphia. 

[Other advantages were gained by the English, and, despite the 
repulse at Ticonderoga, the balance of success in the year's operations 
was decidedly on the side of the British forces. One remarlcable per- 
sonal adventure of the war we may select, in conclusion, its hero being 
the afterwards celebrated general Israel Putnam.] 

"While the intrenchraents of Abercrombie enclosed him 
in security, M. de Montcalm was active in harassing the 
frontiers, and in detaching parties to attack the convoys 
of the English. Two or three convoj^s having been cut 
off by these parties, Major Eogers and Major Putnam 
made excursions from Lake George to intercept them. 
The enemy, apprised of their movements, had sent out 
the French partisan Molang, who had laid an ambuscade 
for them in the woods. "While proceeding in single file in 
three divisions, as Major Putnam, who was at the head of 
the first, was coming out of a thicket, the enemy rose, 
and with discordant yells and whoops attacked the right 
of his division. Surprised, but not dismayed, he halted, 
returned the fire, and passed the word for the other divis- 
ions to advance for his support. Perceiving it would be 
impracticable to cross the creek, he determined to main- 
tain his ground. The officers and men, animated by his 
example, behaved with gi-eat bravery. Putnam's fusee 
at length missing fire, while the muzzle was jjresented 
against the breast of a large and well-proportioned In- 
dian, this warrior, with a tremendous war-whoop, instantly 
sprang forward with his lifted hatchet and compelled him 
to surrender, and, having disarmed him and bound him 
fast to a tree, returned to the battle. The enemy were 
at last driven from the field, leaving their dead behind 



Irving] WOLFE AND MONTCALM AT qUEBEC. 355 

them ; Putnam was untied by the Indian who had made 
him prisoner, and carried to the place where they were to 
encamp that night. Besides many outrages, they inflicted 
a deep wound with a tomahawk upon his left cheek. It 
being determined to roast him alive, they led him into 
a dark forest, stripped him naked, bound him to a tree, 
piled combustibles at a small distance in a circle round 
him, and, with horrid screams, set the pile on fire. In 
the instant of an expected immolation, Molang rushed 
through the crowd, scattered the burning brands, and 
unbound the victim. The next day Major Putnam was 
allowed his moccasons, and permitted to march without 
carrying any pack ; at night the party arrived at Ticon- 
deroga, and the prisoner was placed under the care of a 
Frencli guard. After having been examined by the Mar- 
quis de Montcalm, he was conducted to Montreal by a 
French officer, who treated him with the greatest indul- 
gence and humanity. The capture of Fort Frontenac 
affording occasion for an exchange of prisoners, Major 
Putnam was set at liberty. 



WOLFE AND MONTCALM AT QUEBEC. 

WASHINGTON IRVING. 

[According to the plan of operations for 1759, General "Wolfe, whose 
bravery at Louisburg had gained him great favor, was to ascend the 
St. Lawrence with a fleet of war-vessels and an army of eight thou- 
sand men, as soon as the river should be clear of ice, and lay siege to 
Quebec. General Amherst was to advance by the often-attempted road 
of Lake George, with the purpose of reducing Ticonderoga and Crown 
Point, then to cross Lake Champlain and push on to co-operate with 
"Wolfe. A third expedition, under General Prideaux, assisted by Sir 



356 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving 

William Johnson and his Indians, was to attack Fort Niagara. Am« 
herst's expedition consisted of nearly twelve thousand men. The forts 
threatened had no hope of a successful resistance against such a force, 
and they were deserted as the English army advanced, their garrisons 
retiring towards Montreal. Instead of pursuing, Amhei-st stopped 
to repair the works at Ticonderoga and build a new fort at Crown 
Point, useless measures just then, and causing a delay which deprived 
Wolfe of very desirable assistance. The expeditions of Prideaux and 
Wolfe proved more valuable in their results. We select a description 
of them from Irving's " Life of Washington," in which the exploits 
of Wolfe are described with all the clearness and rhetorical beauty of 
this excellent historian.] 

General Prideaux embarked at Oswego on the 1st of 
July, with a large body of troops, regulars and provincials, 
— the latter partly from UTew Yoi*k. He was accompanied 
by Sir William Johnson and his Indian braves of t^e Mo- 
hawk. Landing at an inlet of Lake Ontario, within a few 
miles of Fort Niagara, he advanced, without being opposed, 
and proceeded to invest it. The garrison, six hundred 
strong, made a resolute defence. The siege was carried 
on by regular approaches, but pressed with vigor. On the 
20th of July, Prideaux, in visiting his trenches, was killed 
by the bursting of a cohorn. Informed by express of this 
misfortune. General Amherst detached from the main army 
Brigadier-General Gage, the officer who had led Braddock's 
advance, to take the command. 

In the mean time the siege had been conducted by Sir 
William Johnson with courage and sagacity. He was des- 
titute of military science, but had a natural aptness for 
Avarfare, especially for the rough kind carried on in the 
wilderness. Being informed b}'' his scouts that twelve 
hundred regular troops, drawn from Detroit, Yenango, 
and Presque Isle, and led by D'Aubry, with a number of 
Indian auxiliaries, were hastening to the rescue, he de- 
tached a force of grenadiers and light infantry, with some 



Irving] WOLFE AND MONTCALM AT QUEBEC. 357 

of his Mohawk warriors, to intercept them. They came 
in sight of each other on the road between Niagara Falls 
and the fort, within the thundering sound of the one and 
the distant view of the other. Johnson's "braves" ad- 
vanced to have a parley with the hostile red-skins. The 
latter received them with a war-whoop, and Frenchman 
and savage made an impetuous onset. Johnson's regulars 
and pi'ovincials stood their ground firmly, while his red 
warriors fell on the flanks of the enemy. After a sharp 
conflict, the French were broken, routed, and pursued 
through the woods, with great carnage. Among the pris- 
oners taken were seventeen officers. The next day Sir 
William Johnson sent a trumpet, summoning the garrison 
to surrender, to spare the eff'usion of blood and prevent 
outrtiges by the Indians. They had no alternative ; were 
permitted to march, out with the honors of war, and were 
protected by Sir William from his Indian allies. 

[This victory secured the key of communication between Lakes On- 
tario and Erie, and to the vast interior region surrounding. But more 
important events were to follow.] 

Wolfe, with his eight thousand men, ascended the St. 
Lawrence in the fleet, in the month of June. With him 
came Brigadiers Monckton, Townshend, and Murraj-, 
youthful and brave like himself, and, like himself, already 
schooled in arms. Monckton, it will be recollected, had 
signalized himself, when a colonel, in the expedition in 
1755 in which the French were driven from Nova Scotia. 
The grenadiei's of the army were commanded by Colonel 
Guy Carleton, and part of the light infantry by Lieutenant- 
Colonel William Howe, both destined to celebrity in after- 
years, in the annals of the American Eevolution. Colonel 
Howe was a brother of the gallant Lord Howe, whose fall 
in the preceding year was so generally lamented. Among 



358 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irvinq 

the officers of the fleet was Jervis, the future admiral, 
and ultimately Earl St. Vincent, and the master of one of 
the ships was James Cook, aftei'wards renowned as a dis- 
coverer. 

About the end of June, the troops debarked on the large, 
populous, and well-cultivated Isle of Orleans, a little below 
Quebec, and encamped in its fertile fields. Quebec, the 
citadel of Canada, was strong by nature. It was built 
round the point of a rocky pi-omontory, and flanked by 
precipices. The crystal current of the St. Lawrence swept 
by it on the right, and the river St. Charles flowed along 
on the left before mingling with that mighty stream. The 
place was tolerably fortified, but ai't had not yet rendered 
it, as at the present day, impregnable. 

Montcalm commanded the post. His troops were more 
numerous than the assailants ; but the greater part were 
Canadians, many of them inhabitants of Quebec ; and he 
had a host of savages. His forces were drawn out along 
the northern shore below the city, from the river St. 
Charles to the Falls of Montmorency, and their position 
was secured by deep intrenchments. 

The night after the debarkation of Wolfe's troops a 
furious storm caused great damage to the transports, and 
sank some of the small craft. While it was still raging, a 
number of fire-ships, sent to destroy the fleet, came driving 
down. They were boarded intrepidly by the British sea- 
men, and towed out of the way of doing harm. After 
much resistance, Wolfe established batteries at the west 
point of the Isle of Orleans, and at Point Levi, on the 
right (or south) bank of the St. Lawrence, within cannon- 
range of the city, — Colonel Guy Carleton commander at 
the former battery, Brigadier Monckton at the latter. 
From Point Levi bomb-shells and red-hot shells were dis- 
charged ; many houses were set on fire in the upper town, 



iRViNbr] WOLFE AND MONTCALM AT QUEBEC. 359 

the lower town was reduced to rubbish ; the main fort, 
however, remained unharmed. 

Anxious for a decisive action, Wolfe, on the 9th of Jul}-, 
ci-ossed over in boats from the Isle of Orleans to the north 
bank of the St. Lawrence, and encamped below the Mont- 
morency. It was an ill-judged position, for there was still 
that tumultuous stream, with its rocky banks, between 
him and the camp of Montcalm ; but the ground he had 
chosen was higher than that occupied by the latter, and 
the Montmorenc}^ had a ford below the falls, passable at 
low tide. Another ford was discovered, three miles within 
land, but the banks were steep, and shagged with forest. 
At both fords the vigilant Montcalm had thrown up breast- 
works and posted troops. 

On the 18th of July, Wolfe made a reconnoitring expe- 
dition up the river with two armed sloops and two trans- 
ports with troops. He passed Quebec unharmed, and care- 
fully noted the shores above it. Euggcd cliffs rose almost 
from the water's edge. Above them, he was told, was an 
extent of level ground, called the Plains of Abraham, by 
which the upper town might be approached on its weakest 
side; but how was that plain to be attained, when the 
cliffs, for the most part, were inaccessible, and every prac- 
ticable place fortified ? 

He returned to Montmorency disappointed, and resolved 
to attack Montcalm in his camp, however difficult to be 
approached, and however strongly posted. Townshend 
and Murra}^, with their brigades, were to cross the Mont- 
morency at low tide, below the falls, and storm the redoubt 
thrown up in front of the ford. Monckton, at the same 
time, was to cross with part of his brigade, in boats from 
Point Levi. The ship Centurion, stationed in the channel, 
was to check the fire of a battery which commanded the 
ford ; a train of artillery, planted on an eminence, was to 



360 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving 

enfilade the enemy's intrenchments; and two armed flat- 
bottomed boats were to be run on shore, near the redoubt, 
and favor the crossing of the troops. 

As usual in complicated orders, part were misunder 
stood or neglected, and confusion was the consequence. 
Many of the boats from Point Levi ran aground on a 
shalloAv in the river, where they were exposed to a severe 
fire of shot and shells. Wolfe, who was on the shore, 
directing everj'thing, endeavored to stop his impatient 
troops until the boats could be got afloat and the men 
landed. Thirteen companies of grenadiers and two hun- 
dred 2}rovincials were the first to land. Without waiting 
for Brigadier Monckton and his regiments, without wait- 
ing for the co-operation of the troops under Townshend, 
without waiting even to be drawn up in form, the grena- 
diers rushed impetuously towards the enemy's intrench- 
ments. A sheeted fire mowed them down, and drove 
them to take shelter behind the redoubt, near the ford, 
which the enemy had abandoned. Here they remained, 
unable to form under the galling fire to which they were 
exposed whenever they ventured from their covert. 
Monckton's brigade at length was landed, drawn up in 
order, and advanced to their relief, driving back the 
enemy. Thus protected, the grenadiers retreated as pre- 
cipitately as they had advanced, leaving many of their 
comrades wounded on the field, who were massacred and 
scalped in their sight by the savages. The delay thus 
caused was fatal to the enterprise. The day was advanced ; 
the weather became stormy ; the tide began to make; at 
a later hour retreat, in case of a second repulse, would 
be impossible. Wolfe, therefore, gave up the attack, and 
withdrew across the river, having lost upwards of four 
hundred men through this headlong impetuosity of the 
grenadiers. The two vessels which had been run aground 



Irving] WOLFE AND MONTCALM AT QUEBEC. 361 

were set on fire, lest they should fall into the hands of 
the enemy. 

Brigadier Murray was now detached with twelve hun- 
dred men, in transports, to ascend above the town and 
co-operate with Rear-Admirai Holmes in destroying the 
enemy's shipping and making descents upon the north 
shore. The shipping was safe from attack ; some stores 
and ammunition were destroyed, some prisoners taken, 
and Murray returned with the news of the capture of 
Fort Niagara, Ticonderoga, and Crown Point, and that 
Amherst was preparing to attack the Isle aux jSToix. 

Wolfe, of a delicate constitution and sensitive nature, 
had been deeply mortified by the severe check sustained 
at the Falls of Montmorency, fancying himself disgraced ; 
and these successes of his fellow-commanders in other 
parts increased his self-upbraiding. The difiiculties multi- 
plying around him, and the delay of General Amherst in 
hastening to his aid, preyed incessantly on his spirits ; he 
was dejected even to despondency, and declared he would 
never return without success, to be exposed, like other 
unfortunate commanders, to the sneers and reproaches of 
the populace. The agitation of his mind, and his acute 
sensibility, brought on a fever, which for some time in- 
capacitated him from taking the field. 

In the midst of his illness he called a council of war, in 
which the whole plan of operations was altered. It was 
determined to convey troops above the town, and endeavor 
to make a diversion in that direction, or draw Montcalm 
into the open field. Befoi'e carrying this plan into effect, 
Wolfe again reconnoitred the town in company with 
Admiral Saunders, but nothing better suggested itself 

The brief Canadian summer was over; they were in the 
month of September. The camp at Montmorency was 
broken up. The troops were transported to Point Levi, 

I.— Q 31 



362 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irvisq 

leaving a sufficient number to man the batteries on the 
Isle of Orleans. On the 5th and 6th of September the 
embarkation took place above Point Levi, in transports 
which had been sent up for the purpose. Montcalm de- 
tached De Bougainville with fifteen hundred men to keep 
along the north shore above the town, watch the move- 
ments of the squadron, and prevent a landing. To deceive 
him, Admiral Holmes moved with the ships of war three 
leagues beyond the place where the landing was to be 
attempted. He was to drop down, however, in the night, 
and protect the landing. Cook, the future discoverer, also, 
was emploj'ed with others to sound the river and place 
buoys opposite the camp of Montcalm, as if an attack 
were meditated in that quarter. 

Wolfe was still suffering under the effects of his late 
fever. " My constitution."' wi'ites he to a friend, " is en- 
tirely ruined, without the consolation of having done any 
considerable service to the state, and without any prospect 
of it." Still he was unremitting in his exertions, seeking 
to wipe out the fancied disgrace incurred at the Falls of 
Montmorency. It was in this mood he is said to have 
composed and sung at his evening mess that little cam- 
paigning song still linked with his name: 

" Why, soldiers, why 

Should we be melancholy, boys ? 
Why, soldiers, why, — 
Whose business 'tis to die ?" 

Even when embarked in his midnight enterprise, the 
presentiment of death seems to have cast its shadow over 
him. A midshipman Avho was present used to relate that, 
as Wolfe sat among his officers, and the boats floated down 
silently with the current, he recited, in low and touching 
tones, Gray's Elegy in a Country Churchyard, then just 



Irving] WOLFE AND MONTCALM AT qUEBEC. 363 

published. One stanza may especially have accorded with 
his melancholy mood : 

" The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 

And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, 
Await alike the inevitable hour : 
The paths of glory lead but to the grave." 

"Now, gentlemen," said he, when he had finished, "I 
would rather be the author of that poem than take 
Quebec." 

The descent was made in flat-bottomed boats, past mid- 
night, on the 13th of September. They dropped down 
silently with the swift current. '^Qui va Id?" (Who goes 
there?) cried a sentinel from the shore. " La France," re- 
plied a captain in the first boat, who understood the French 
language. "J. quel regiment f^ was the demand. "i)e la 
Heine" (The queen's), replied the captain, knowing that 
regiment was in De Bougainville's detachment. Fortu- 
nately, a convoy of provisions was expected down from 
De Bougainville, which the sentinel supposed this to be. 
" Fasse," cried he, and the boats glided on without further 
challenge. The landing took place in a cove near Cape 
Diamond, which still bears Wolfe's name. He had marked 
it in reconnoitring, and saw that a cragged path straggled 
up from it to the Heights of Abraham, which might be 
climbed, though with difficulty* and that it appeared to be 
slightl}'' guarded at top. Wolfe was among the first that 
landed and ascended up the steep and narrow path, where 
not more than two could go abreast, and which had been 
broken up by cross-ditches. Colonel Howe, at the same 
time, with the light infantry and Highlanders, scrambled 
up the woody precipices, helping themselves by the I'oots 
and branches, and putting to flight a sergeant's guard 
posted at the summit. Wolfe drew up the men in order 



364 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving 

as they mounted, and by the break of day found himself 
in possession of the fateful Plains of Abi'aham. 

Montcalm was thunderstruck when word was brought 
to him in his camp that the English were on the heights, 
threatening the weakest part of the town. Abandoning 
his intrenchments, he hastened across the river St. Charles 
and ascended the heights which slope up gradually from 
its banks. His force was equal in number to that of the 
English, but a great part was made up of colony troops and 
savages. When he saw the formidable host of regulars 
he had to contend with, he sent off swift messengers to 
summon De Bougainville with his detachment to his aid, 
and De Vaudreuil to reinforce him with fifteen hundred 
men from the camp. In the mean time he prepared to 
flank the left of the English line and force them to the 
opposite precipices. Wolfe saw his aim, and sent Briga- 
dier Townshend to counteract him with a regiment which 
was formed en potence, and supported b}^ two battalions, 
presenting on the left a double front. 

The French, in their haste, thinking they were to repel 
a mere scouting-party, had brought but three light field- 
pieces with them ; the English had but a single gun, which 
the sailors had dragged up the heights. With these they 
cannonaded each other for a time, Montcalm still waiting 
for the aid he had summoned. At length, about nine 
o'clock, losing all patience. -he led on his disciplined troops 
to a close conflict with small-arms, the Indians to support 
them with a galling fire from thickets and corn-fields. 
The French advanced gallantly, but irregularly, firing 
rapidly, but with little efi'ect. The English reserved their 
fire until their assailants were within forty yards, and 
then delivered it in deadly volleys. They suffered, how- 
ever, from the lurking savages, who singled out the oflS- 
cers. Wolfe, who was in front of the line, a conspicuous 



Irving] WOLFE AND MONTCALM AT QUEBEC. 365 

mark, was wounded by a ball in the wrist. He bound his 
handkerchief round the wound and led on the grenadiers, 
with fixed bayonets, to charge the foe, who began to 
waver. Another ball struck him in the breast. He felt 
the wound to be mortal, and feared his fall might dis- 
hearten his troops. Leaning on a lieutenant for support, 
" Let not my brave fellows see me drop," said he, faintly. 
He was borne off to the rear; water was brought to 
quench his thirst, and he was asked if he would have a 
surgeon. " It is needless," he replied ; " it is all over with 
me." He desired those about him to lay him down. The 
lieutenant seated himself^uj)on the ground, and supported 
him in his arms. " They run ! they run ! see how they 
run !" cried one of the attendants. " Who run ?" de- 
manded "Wolfe, earnestly, like one aroused from sleep. 
"The enemy, sir; they give w^ay everywhere." The spirit 
of the expiring hero flashed up. " Go, one of you, my 
lads, to Colonel Burton ; tell him to march Webb's regi- 
ment with all speed down to Charles Eiver, to cut off the 
retreat by the bridge." Then, tm-ning on his side, " N"ow, 
God be praised, I will die in peace!" said be, and expired, 
— soothed in his last moments by the idea that victory 
would obliterate the imagined disgrace at Montmorency. 

Brigadier Murray had indeed broken the centre of the 
enemy, and the Highlanders were making deadly havoc 
with their claymores, driving the French into the town or 
down to their works on the river St. Charles. Monekton, 
the first brigadier, was disabled by a wound in the lungs, 
and the command devolved on Townshend, who hastened 
to re-form the troops of the centre, disordered in pursuing 
the enemy. By this time De Bougainville appeared at a 
distance in the rear, advancing with two thousand fresh 
troops, but he arrived too late to retrieve the day. The 
gallant Montcalm had received his death-wound near St. 
I. 31* 



366 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving 

John's Gate, while endeavoring to rally his flying troops, 
and had been borne into the town. 

Townshend advanced with a force to receive De Bougain- 
ville ; but the latter avoided a combat, and retired into 
woods and swamps, where it was not thought prudent to 
follow him. The English had obtained a complete victory, 
slain about five hundred of the enemy, taken above a 
thousand prisoners, and among them several officers, and 
had a strong position on the Plains of Abraham, which 
they hastened to fortify with redoubts and artillery, drawn 
up the heights. 

The brave Montcalm wrote a. letter to General Town- 
shend, recommending the prisoners to British hvimanity. 
When told by his surgeon that he could not survive above 
a few hours, " So much the better," replied he ; "I shall 
not live to see the surrender of Quebec." To De Eamsey, 
the French king's lieutenant, who commanded the garri- 
son, he consigned the defence of the city. " To your 
keeping," said he, " I commend the honor of France. I'll 
neither give orders, nor interfere any further. I have 
business to attend to of greater moment than your ruined 
garrison and this wretched country. My time is short : 
I shall pass this night with God, and prepare myself for 
death. I wish you all comfort, and to be happily ex- 
tricated from your present perplexities." He then called 
for his chaplain, who, with the bishop of the colony, re- 
mained with him through the night. He expired early in 
the morning, dying like a brave soldier and a devout 
Catholic. Never did two worthier foes mingle their life- 
blood on the battle-field than Wolfe and Montcalm. 

[This victory was quickly followed by a surrender of the city, 
whose garrison made no effort to defend it. It capitulated on the 17th 
of September, and was at once strongly occupied by the British, who 
hastened to put it in a strong defensive condition. Had Amherst 



Irvijjg] WOLFE AND MONTCALM AT QUEBEC. 367 

followed up Wolfe's success by a prompt advance, the subjugation 
of Canada would have been completed that year. His delay gave the 
French time to rally, and enabled De Levi, the successor of Montcalm, 
to make a vigorous effort to recover the lost city.] 

In the following spring, as soon as the river St. Law- 
rence opened, he approached Quebec, and landed at Point 
au Tremble, about tAvelve miles off. The garrison had 
suffered dreadfully during the winter from excessive cold, 
want of vegetables and of fresh provisions. Many had 
died of scurvy, and many more were ill. Murray, san- 
guine and injudicious, and hearing that De Levi was 
advancing with ten thousand men and five hundred 
Indians, sallied out with his diminished forces of not more 
than thi-ee thousand. English soldiers, he boasted, were 
habituated to victory; he had a fine train of artillery, and 
stood a better chance in the field than cooped up in a 
wretched fortification. If defeated, he would defend the 
place to the last extremit}^, and then retreat to the Isle of 
Oi'leans and wait for reinforcements. More brave than 
discreet, he attacked the vanguard of the enemy. The 
battle which took place was fierce and sanguinarj^. Mur- 
ray's troops had caught his own "headlong valor, and 
fought until near a third of their number were slain. 
They were at length driven back into the town, leaving 
their boasted train of artillery on the field. 

De Levi opened trenches before the town the very 
evening of the battle. Three French ships, which had 
descended the river, furnished him with cannon, mortars, 
and ammunition. By the 11th of Ma}" he had one bomb 
batter}' and three batteries of cannon. Murray, equall}^ 
alert within the walls, strengthened his defences and kept 
up a vigorous fire. His garrison was now reduced to two 
hundred and twenty effective men, and he himself, with 
all his vaunting spirit, was driven almost to despair, when 



368 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Trumbull 

a British fleet arrived in the river. The whole scene was 
now reversed. One of the French frigates was driven on 
the rocks above Cape Diamond ; another ran on shore and 
was burnt ; the rest of their vessels were either taken or 
destroyed. The besieging army retreated in the night, 
leaving provisions, implements, and artillery behind them ; 
and so rapid "w^as their flight that Murray, who sallied 
forth on the following day, could not overtake them. 

[A last stand was made at Montreal. But a force of nearly ten 
thousand men, with a host of Indians, gathered around the town, 
which was forced to capitulate on the 8th of September, including in 
the surrender not only Montreal, but all Canada.] 

Thus ended the contest between France and England for 
dominion in America, in which, as has been said, the first 
sun was fired in Washington's encounter with De Jumon- 
ville. A French statesman and diplomatist consoled him- 
self by the persuasion that it would be a fatal triumph to 
England. It would remove the only check by which her 
colonies were kept in awe. " They will no longer need 
her protection," said he ; " she will call on them to con- 
tribute towards supporting the burdens they have helped 
to bring on her, and they will answer by striking off all de- 
pendence."^ 



WAR WITH THE CHEROKEES. 

BENJAMIN TRUMBULL. 

[The year of the taking of Quebec by General Wolfe was signalized 
by a war in the South, of much less importance than that just de- 
scribed, but of no less fury and determination in the combatants. This 



* Count de Yergennes, French ambassador at Constantinople. 



Trumbull] WAR WITH THE CHEROKEES. 369 

was the war with the Cherokee Indians, one of the most vigorously 
contested of the Indian wars of the United States, but which ended, 
like all the others, in rapid subjection of the savages. As has been so 
frequently the case with Indian wars, this conflict originated in an act 
of cruel injustice on the part of the whites, a murderous outrage which 
drove the indignant aborigines into deeds of terrible reprisal and kin- 
dled the flames of war along the whole southern boundary of the colo- 
nies. The story of this conflict we select from Trumbull's " General 
History of the United States of America," in which valuable old work 
it is given in full detail.] 

During several of the first years of the war this numer- 
ous and powerful nation [the Cherokee] had appeared cor- 
dially to espouse the interests of the English. At their 
desire a fortress had been built in their country, called 
Fort Loudon, in honor to the Earl of Loudon, at that time 
commander-in-chief in America. Parties of them had as- 
sisted in the late expedition against Fort Duquesne. But 
it seems that while the}' were on that enterprise they were 
treated with such general coolness and neglect, and re- 
ceived such insults, as made deep impressions on the minds 
of that vindictive people. These were kindled into flame 
and outrage by the treatment which they receivetl from 
some of the Virginians on their return from that expe- 
dition. Many of the warriors had lost their horses in that 
service ; and, as they were returning home, through the 
back parts of "Virginia, they caught such as they found 
running loose in the woods, not knowing that they be- 
longed to any individual in the province. The Yirginians, 
instead of legally asserting their rights, fell on the unsus- 
picious warriors, killed twelve or fourteen of them, and 
took several prisoners. The Cherokees were highl}' ex- 
asperated at such ungrateful treatment from allies whose 
frontiers, by their assistance, had so lately been turned 
from a field of blood into peaceful habitations. ]S'o sooner 
had they returned, than they reported to the nation the 



370 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Trumbull 

bloody treatment which they had received. The flame 
spread instantly through their towns. The relatives of 
the slain were implacable, and breathed nothing but ven- 
geance against such iingrateful and perfidious alHes. The 
French emissaries added fuel to the flames. In vain did 
the chieftains interpose their authority. Nothing could 
restrain the fury of the young warriors. They rushed 
down on the frontier settlements, and pei-petrated many 
cruel ravages and murders on the defenceless inhabitants. 

About two hundred soldiers, under the command of 
Captains Dewere and Stewart, were stationed at Fort 
Loudon. These, on every excursion from the fort, were 
attacked by them : some were killed, and the rest soon 
confined within the limits of the fort. All communication 
between them and the distant settlements was cut off, and, 
as their supplies were scanty, the only prospects before 
them were famine and death. It was feared, at the same 
time, that the arts of the enemy would influence the 
powerful neighboring nation of the Creeks to the same 
hostile measures. 

In this alarming situation. Governor Littleton gave 
orders to the commanders of the militia immediately to 
assemble their men and act on the defensive. The gov- 
ernor determined, with such independent companies and 
militia as could be raised, immediately to march into the 
enemy's countrj^, and to prosecute such measures as should 
bring them to reasonable terms of accommodation. 

[Despite what had been done by their young warriors, the leaders 
of the Cherokees had no desire for war. They sent thirty-two of their 
chief men to Charleston, with the hope of making a peace. These 
were haughtily received by the governor, who spoke to them with 
great severity and would not listen to a word of reply. He also held 
them virtually prisoners, requiring them to accompany his expedition.] 

Soon after the conference, the governor marched for the 



Trumbull] WAR WITH THE CHEROKEES. 371 

Congarees. This was about a hundred and forty miles 
from Charleston, and the place of general rendezvous for 
the militia. Hither the sachems marched with the army, 
putting on the appearance of content, while inwardly they 
were burning with fury and resentment. The governor, 
having mustered about fourteen hundred men, of whom 
about three hundred were regulars, marched for Fort 
Prince George. When the army marched, the chieftains 
were all made prisoners ; and, to prevent their escape, a 
captain's guard was mounted over them. To complete 
their indignitj" and ill treatment, when the army arrived 
at Fort Prince George the thirty-two chieftains were shut 
up in a hut scarcely fit for the accommodation of half a 
dozen soldiers. They were not allowed to speak with their 
friends, nor even to see the light of day. 

When the governor had advanced as far as this post, he 
found his army so ill armed and disciplined, and so discon- 
tented and mutinous, that he judged it unsafe to proceed 
further against the enemy. Here, tnerefore, he opened a 
congress with the Indians. For this purpose he had pre- 
viously sent for Attakullakulla, otherwise Little Carpenter, 
who was not only esteemed the wisest man in the nation, 
but the most firmly attached to the English. This old 
warrior, though just returned from an excursion against 
the French, in which he had taken a number of prisoners, 
hastened to the governor's camp, and presented him with 
one of the captives. 

[The sachem, after a conference with the governor, requested that 
some of the head-men might be released, in order to assist him in 
bringing his people to terms of peace.] 

In compliance with his request, the governor released 
the great warrior Ouconnostota, and two more of the 
head-men. The next day the}' delivered up two Indians. 



372 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Tkumbuli, 

The governor putting them immediately in irons, so 
alarmed the Cherokees that they fled out of the way and 
no more could be obtained. 

[As Attakullakulla now left the camp, despairing of making any 
accommodation, he was sent for to return by the governor, who con- 
cluded a treaty with him, holding twenty-two of the chieftains as hos- 
tages until as many of the warriors who had committed murder should 
be delivered up.] 

Scarcely had the governor finished the treaty, when the 
small-pox broke out in his camp. Few of the army had 
been infected with the disease, and the physicians were 
wholly unprovided for such an event. The men were 
struck with a general terror, and with the utmost haste 
returned to their respective settlements. Such was the 
fear which each had of his fellow, that all intercourse, on 
the return, was cautiously avoided. By this means the 
men suff'ered exceedingly with hunger and fatigue. The 
governor soon follo;ved them, and arrived safely at 
Charleston. Here, though a drop of blood had not been 
spilt, nor scarcely anything achieved but what was highly 
perfidious and inglorious, he was received as a conqueror. 
From different societies and professions he received the 
most flattering addresses. By illuminations and bonfires 
the citizens expressed the high sense which they enter- 
tained of his services and of the happy consequences of 
his expedition. 

[Their congratulations proved somewhat too hasty. The Indians 
were so incensed by the perfidy with which their messengers had been 
treated that they ignored the treaty of peace.] 

Attakullakulla, by reason of his known attachment to 
the English, had little influence with his countrymen. 
Ouconnostota, whose influence was great, was now become 
an implacable and vindictive enemy. He determined to 



Trumbull] WAR WITH THE CHEROKEES. 373 

follow the example of the governor, and to repay mean- 
ness and perfidy in their own kind. No attention was 
paid to the treaty, but Ouconnostota, collecting a strong 
party, killed fourteen men in the neighborhood of Fort 
Prince George, surrounded the fort, and confined the gar- 
rison to their works. Finding that he could make no 
impression upon the fort, he contrived a stratagem for 
its surprisal, and the relief of his countrymen who were 
there in confinement. 

As the country was covei-ed with woods and dark 
thickets, it was favorable to his purposes. Having con- 
certed his measures, two Indian women, who were known 
to be alwaj^s welcome at the fort, made their appearance 
on the other side of the river, to decoy the garrison. 
Lieutenant Dogharty went out to them, to inquire what 
news. While he was conversing with the women, Oucon- 
nostota joined them, and desired Dogharty to call the 
commanding officer, saying that he had matters of impor 
tance to communicate to him. Accordingly, Captain Coty- 
more. Ensign Bell, Dogharty, and Foster, their interpreter, 
went out to him. He said that he was going to Charleston 
to procure the release of the prisoners, and wished for a 
white man for a safeguard. The captain told him he 
should have a safeguard. No sooner had he received the 
answer than, turning and giving a signal, nearly thirty 
guns were fired from diiferent ambuscades. The captain 
was killed, and Bell and Foster were wounded. In con- 
sequence of this, orders were given that the hostages 
should be put in irons. In attempting this, one of the 
soldiers was killed, and another wounded. These circum- 
stances so exasperated the garrison that, without hesita- 
tion, the}" fell on the unfortunate hostages, and butchered 
them in a manner too shocking to relate. 

In the evening the Indians approached the fort, and, 
I. 32 



374 AMERICA X HISTORY. [Trumbull 

after firing signal-guns and crying aloud, in the Cherokee 
language, " Fight manfully and you shall be assisted," they 
commenced a furious attack on the garrison, and kept up 
their fire the whole night. But they were so warmly re- 
ceived that they were obliged to give over the attack. 

Disappointed in their design on the fort, and finding 
that their chieftains were slain, they wreaked their ven- 
geance on the English traders in their country. These 
they butchered, to a man, without mercy or distinction. 
In the massacre of the hostages the Cherokees had not 
only lost a great number of their head-men, but most of 
them had lost a friend or relation. Nothing, therefore, 
could exceed the resentment and rage of the nation. The 
leaders of every town seized the hatchet, proclaiming 
to their fellows that the spirits of murdered brothers 
were flying around them and calling for vengeance on their 
enemies. "With one voice the nation declared for war. 
Large parties of warriors, from different towns, rushed 
doAvn on defenceless families on the frontiers of Carolina, 
where men, women, and children, without distinction, fell 
a sacrifice to their merciless rage. At Long Canes, and 
about the forks of Broad Eiver, they made terrible carnage 
among the inhabitants, who, trusting to the late peace, 
were reposed in perfect security. 

About two hundred of the enemy made a furious attack 
on the fort at Ninety-Six ; but they were obliged to retire 
with considerable loss. This they revenged on the open 
country, ravaging the English houses in that quarter and 
all along the frontiers of Virginia. They were not satis- 
fied barely with pillaging and destroying the inhabitants, 
but they wantoned in the most horrible acts of barbarity. 
Many who fled into the woods and escaped the scalping- 
knife perished with hunger. Those who were made pris- 
oners were carried into the wilderness, where they suffered 



Trumbull] WAR WITH THE CHEROKEES. 375 

inexpressible hardships. So secret and sudden were the 
motions of the enemy that it was impossible to tell where 
the storm would fall, or to take the precautions necessary 
to prevent the mischief Every day brought to the capital 
fresh accounts of their mui-ders and desolations. 

[It had become necessary to take energetic measures for defence and 
reprisal, and Colonel Montgomery was sent from General Amherst's 
army to Charleston, with a force of twelve hundred men. The prov- 
ince was now under a new governor, who took judicious measures for 
defence, while the army advanced rapidly into the enemy's country. 
Several Indian towns were burned, the magazines of provisions de- 
stroyed, and a considerable number of the savages killed and captured. 
The othei-s escaped to the mountains. Fort Prince George was relieved, 
and overtures of peace were made to the enemy.] 

Messages of peace producing no good effect, the colonel 
determined to make an attack on their middle settlements. 
He immediately began his march ; but his success in this 
enterprise was noways equal to that in his former. The 
enemy watched all his motions, and took every advantage 
and opportunity to distress him on his march. On the 
third day, as the army was advancing through a dangerous 
ground, the enemy attacked him in the most furious and 
obstinate manner. They commenced the action with their 
usual horrible screams and outcries, maintaining a severe 
fire from under cover. The troops were ranged in the 
most judicious manner, and firmly stood the enemy's 
charge. The fight was long, obstinate, and well maintained 
on both sides. At length, the colonel making a movement 
which brought the Eoyal Scots upon their right, the enemy 
gave wa.j and fled. The captain of the rangers, and about 
twent}' men, were killed, and nearly eighty wounded. It 
was supposed that the enemy lost about forty men. The 
army pushed forward about five miles, the succeeding 
evening, to Etchowee, one of the most considerable towns 



376 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Trumbull 

in the middle settlements. But the Indians had removed 
their most valuable effects, and forsaken the town. The 
colonel was able to do them no other injury than to destroy 
a defenceless town. Hei-e they attacked his picket-guard 
with such fury that they were repulsed with difficulty. 
They also gave him repeated annoyance by their volleys 
from the surrounding hills. Though he had gained the 
field, and been able to advance after the action, yet it 
had the effect of a defeat. So many of his men had been 
wounded, and so many of his horses killed, that he found 
a retreat absolutely necessary to save the wounded men 
fi'om the massacre of the enemy. In the beginning of 
July he returned to Fort Prince George. The expedition 
had cost him five officers and about a hundred men, killed 
and wounded. 

[This expedition proved eventually more disadvantageous to the 
English than to their enemies. Colonel Montgomery now felt it 
necessary, under the orders he had received, to return north with his 
troops, and left hut about four hundred men to assist in defending the 
frontiers. As a result, the Southern colonies were again raided by the 
foe, whom Montgomery had but exasperated. Fort Loudon fell into 
their hands, and the garrison, in their march northward, were partly 
killed and the remainder made captive. Under these circumstances 
application was again made to General Amherst for assistance. It 
was now the year 1761, Canada was captured, and a force could easily 
be diverted south. It was determined to give the Indians a lesson 
that would force them to make peace.] 

In Maj^, the army, consisting of two thousand and six 
hundred men, advanced to Fort Prince George. Here At- 
takullakulla, having got intelligence of the force advancing 
against his nation, met Colonel Grant, and repeatedly en- 
treated him, by his friendship and many good services to 
the English, to proceed no further till he had once more 
used his influence with his nation to brins* them to an ac- 



Trumbull] WAR WITH THE CHEROKEES. 377 

commodation. But Colonel Grant would, not listen to his 
solicitations. He immediately began his march for the 
middle settlements. A party of ninety Indians and thirty 
woodmen painted like Indians marched in front of the 
army and scoured the wood. After them followed the 
light infantry and about fifty rangers, consisting of about 
two hundred men. By the vigilance and activity of these 
the colonel designed to secure the main body from annoy- 
ance and surprise. During three days he made forced 
marches that he might pass several dangerous defiles which 
might cost him dear should the enemy first get the pos- 
session and warmly dispute the passage. These he passed 
without annoyance. But the next day, finding suspicious 
grounds on all sides, orders were given that the army 
should prepare for action, and that the guards should ad- 
vance slowly, doubling their cii'cumspection. As the army 
advanced in this cautious manner, about eight o'clock in 
the morning the enemy were discovered, by the advanced 
guard, nearly in the same ground where they attacked 
Colonel Montgomery the preceding year. Eushing down 
from the high grounds, they furiously attacked the ad- 
vanced guard. These were supported, and the action be- 
came general. A party of the enemy driven from the low 
grounds immediately ascended the hills under which the 
whole line was obliged to pass. On the left was a river, 
from the opposite banks of which they received a heavy 
fire as they advanced. While the line faced and gave their 
whole charge to the Indians on the bank of the river, a 
party was ordered to ascend the hills and drive the enemy 
from the heights. No sooner were they dislodged from 
the heights than they returned with redoubled ardor to 
the charge in the low grounds. These it appeared their 
determination obstinately to dispute. The situation of the 
troops soon became critical and distressing. They had 
I. 32* 



378 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Tkumbuli. 

been greatly fatigued by forced marches iu rainy weather. 
They were galled by the fire of the enemy, so compassed 
with woods that they could neither discern nor approach 
them but with the greatest difficulty and danger. When 
they were pressed they always kept at a distance, but, 
rallying, returned again with the same fierceness and res- 
olution to the charge. No sooner were they driven from 
one place than they sprang up like furies in another. 
While the attention of the colonel was drawn to the 
enemy on the banks of the river, and employed in driving 
them from their lurking-places on that side, so fui'ious an 
attack was made on his rear-guard that he was obliged to 
order a detachment back to its relief, to save his cattle, 
provision, and baggage. From nine to eleven o'clock did 
the enemy maintain the action. Everywhere the woods 
resounded with the roar of arms and the hideous shouts 
and yells of savages. At length the Cherokees gave way, 
but as they were pursued they kept up a scattering shot 
till two o'clock. They then wholly disappeared. 

What loss the enemy sustained is not known, but tnat 
of Colonel Grant was about sixty men in killed and wounded. 
The army advanced as soon as possible, and about midnight 
arrived at Etchoe, a large Indian town. The next day it 
was reduced to ashes. There were fourteen other towns 
in the middle settlements, all which shared the same fate. 
The enemy's magazines, and their cornfields, amounting 
to not less than fourteen hundred acres, were utterly de- 
stroyed. The miserable inhabitants stood the silent spec- 
tators of the general destruction, and were obliged to re 
tire, to starve in the thickets and mountains. Nearly the 
same barbarities were practised toAvards them, by a civil- 
ized and Christian people, of which we so loudly complain 
when, in their manner of warfare, they are practised 
acrainst us. . . . 



Trumbull] WAR WITH THE CHEROKEES. 379 

After nearly thirty days had been spent in works of 
destruction, the army returned to Fort Prince George. 
The various hardships it had endured in the wilderness, 
from watching, heat, thirst, danger, and fatigue, hardly 
admit of description. The feet and legs of many of the 
soldiers were so mangled, and their spirits so exhausted, 
that they were utterly incapacitated to proceed on their 
march. Colonel Grant determined, therefore, to encamp 
awhile at this post, both for the refreshment of his men 
and to get intelligence with respect to resolutions of the 
enemy. 

Soon after his arrival, Attakullakulla and several other 
chieftains of his nation came to the camp and expressed 
their wishes for peace. 

[Articles were drawn and signed by both parties.] 

Peace was established, and both parties expressed their 
wishes that it might continue as long as the rivers should 
run, or the sun shine. The whole North American conti- 
nent appeared now to be quieted. 

[But the quiet was only that of desistance from open warfare. A 
mental disquiet quickly followed which was, ere long, to lead to a war 
more terrible than any the continent had heretofore known.] 



380 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 



SECTION VI. 

THE THRESHOLD OF THE REVOLUTION. 



POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 

CHARLES MORRIS. 

[The Fi-ench and Indian War had other important results than that 
of removing the great rival to English power in America. In this it 
cleared the field for another and greater war yet to come, while it edu- 
cated the colonists in the military art, and prepared them for the task 
of encountering the ablest soldiers of Europe in deadly conflict on their 
own soil. It served, also, as a school of training for many of the 
officers who were afterwards to grow prominent in the Kevolutionary 
War, and in particular gave to George Washington his first lessons in 
that art in which he was soon to acquire a world-wide fame. Names 
crop up throughout the course of this conflict which we shall meet in 
marked prominence in the events next to be described, — names not 
only of soldiers, but also of statesmen, for it is a political as well as a 
military revolution with which we have to deal, and its grand results 
are due to the legislator quite as much as to the soldier. The military 
struggle, indeed, was preceded by a long and fierce political contest, 
of which it formed the inevitable conclusion. For this contest the 
people of America had been prepared, not by their years of war, but 
by their years of peace, for the whole political history of the American 
colonies is a history of instruction in the principles of democracy, and 
the republic of the United States was only in an immediate sense the 
work of the men of the Kevolution, but in its fullest sense was the 
work of the colonists of America from their first entrance upon the 
trans- Atlantic shores. A consideration of the political struggle lead- 
ing to the war of independence, therefore, properl}^ requires a pre- 
ceding review of the political history of the colonies from their first 



Morris] POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 381 

settlement, since only in this way can we comprehend the preparation 
of the whole people for the radical change of government they were so 
soon to undergo, and the strong spirit of democracy which stood behind 
the labors of congresses and conventions and gave the cue to the work 
which they were to perform. In default of finding any sufficiently 
brief statement of this political evolution in the works of historians, 
the editor offers the following outline sketch, as an essential prelimi- 
nary to the chapter of American history which now demands our 
attention.] 

The several British colonies of America were formed 
under a variety of differing conditions. The settlement 
of Yirginia was the work of a company of London mer- 
chants, that of New England of a body of Puritan refugees 
from persecution. Most of the other colonies were formed 
through the efforts of proprietors, to whom the king had 
made large grants of territory. None of them were of 
royal or parliamentary establishment, the nearest to this 
being the colony of New York, which was appi'opriated 
from its Dutch founders by the king's brother, — soon to 
become king himself. The government of the mother- 
country, therefore, took no part in the original formation 
of the government of the colonies, except in the some- 
what flexible requirements of the charters granted to the 
proprietors. Lord Baltimore was left at full liberty to 
establish a form of government for Maryland, William 
Penn for Pennsylvania, and the body of proprietors for 
the Carolinas, while the London Company of merchants 
largely used their own discretion in modelling that of 
Yirginia. As for the government of Plymouth, it was 
formed without any restriction or suggestion from abroad, 
by a body of men who had crossed the ocean to enjoy 
religious liberty and who were jDrepared by their previous 
history for the duties of self-goveimment. The Massachu- 
setts colony was a chartered one, but from the first it took 
its o-overnment into its own hands, and began to exist 



382 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

under that same simple form of democracy which had 
been established by its Plj-mouth predecessor. In fact, a 
colony composed of equals, unprovided with a royal gov- 
ernor, and to a large extent unrestricted in its action, 
could scarcely assume any other than the one form of 
government, that of a democracy in which every man 
was a citizen and had a full voice in the management of 
affairs. There was only one restriction to this universal 
suffrage and self-government, — that of religious orthodoxy. 
The colonists were Puritan sectaries, and were determined 
that their form of religion alone should prevail in the 
colony. Not only were those of heterodox views incapa- 
ble of exercising full rights of citizenship, but they were 
soon driven from the community, as an element of dis- 
cordance hostile to the well-being of this bigoted body poli- 
tic. To the extent here indicated, therefore, democracy in 
America was first established in 1620, not in 1776. And 
it made considerable progress in New England and else- 
where ere it encountered any decided interference from 
the crown. The growth of this democratic spirit is of 
high interest, and is worthy of a much fuller considera- 
tion than we have space to devote to it. 

The first government of New England was formed on 
board the Mayflower, before the landing of the Pilgrims. 
It was the democratic government of the Puritan church 
congregation transferred to the body politic, the Pilgrims 
choosing their governor as they chose their pastor, by the 
voice of the congregation. " For eighteen years all laws 
were enacted in a general assembly of all the colonists. 
The governor, chosen annually, was but president of a 
council, in which he had a double vote. It consisted first 
of one, then of five, and finally of seven members, called 
assistants." The colonists gradually assumed all the pre- 
rogatives of government, even the power of capital punish- 



Morris] POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 383 

ment. Yet so little' were political honors desired that it 
became necessary to fine those who, being chosen, declined 
to act as governor or assistant. 

The colony of Massachusetts Bay was organized under 
a charter granted by the king, but its primary manage- 
ment was of the same nature as that of Plymouth. In 
1630 the charter and the government were transferred from 
England to Massachusetts, John Winthrop was chosen 
governor by the people, and the first General Court, or 
legislative assembly, was held at Boston on the 19th of 
October of that year. From that time until 1686 the 
people of New England governed themselves, under a 
system based on general election, all power being in the 
hands of the people, and the government essentially a 
republic. The only restriction to the right of franchise 
was the requirement that all citizens must be members of 
some church within the limits of the colony. In 1634 
another important step of progress in self-government was 
made. Settlements were now dotted around the circum- 
ference of Massachusetts Bay, and it had become incon- 
venient for the citizens to exercise the duties of freemen 
in person. They thei'efore chose deputies to represent 
them, and the primitive form of democracy was changed 
to a representative one. 

In the formation of the other New England colonies 
the same principle of government was adopted. The con- 
stitution of the Connecticut settlements, formed in 1639, 
paid no heed to the existence of a mother-countrj^. The 
governor and legislature were to be chosen annually b}' 
the freemen, whose oath of allegiance was to the common- 
wealth, not to the English monarch, and the "general 
cotirt" possessed the sole power of making and repealing 
laws. The royal charter granted by Charles II. in 1662 
fully confirmed the constitution which the people had thus 



38-4 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

made for themselves. Ehode Island was chartered by 
the En<,4ish ParHament in 1644, and formal]}^ organized its 
government in 1647, adopting a democracy similar to that 
of the other colonies, except that there was no religious 
restriction to the rights of citizenship, it being declared 
that " all men might walk as their consciences persuaded 
them, without molestation, every one in the nam.e of his 
God." The colonies of Maine and Xew Hampshire became 
proprietary governments, under royal grants to Sir Ferdi- 
nando Gorges and Captain John Mason. But they quickly 
came under the influence of the Massachusetts colony, and 
in 1641 New Hampshire placed itself under the protection 
of Massachusetts and ignored the claims of the proprie- 
tors. Its adojDted form of government differed from that 
of Massachusetts onl}^ in the fact that neither the freemen 
nor the deputies of the colony were I'equired to be church 
members. 

In 1643 a further step of progress in the evolution of a 
representative republic was made. As a measure of pro- 
tection against the Indians and the other dangers which 
threatened them, the colonies of Massachusetts, Connec- 
ticut, New Haven, and Plymouth united themselves into a 
confederacy, under the title of The United Colonies of New 
England. Ehode Island was not admitted into this con- 
federacy, because she would not consent to be incorporated 
with Plymouth. New Hampshire, as we have seen, formed 
then a portion of the Massachusetts colony. The govern- 
ing body of the confederacy consisted of an annual As- 
sembly, composed of two deputies from each colony, which 
dealt with all matters relating to the common interests, 
while the separate interests of each colony were managed 
by its local government, as before. 

We perceive in the events above described a remarkable 
progress towards a federal republic, of the same type as 



Morris] POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 385 

that now existing in the United States of xlmei-ica, and 
constituting a noble scliool for the teaching of those prin- 
ciples of self-government which have become so deeply in- 
stilled into the minds of the American people. It may seem 
strange that England so quietly permitted this colonial 
republic to be formed. But the governing powers of Eng- 
land had work enough for themselves at home. Originally 
the colonies were too insignificant for their acts to call for 
much attention, and when the home government did show 
some disposition to interfere with them, the colonists, with 
much shrewdness and show of respect, yet with great 
tenacity, held on to the rights they had acquired, and 
baffled by a policy of delay and negation every effort to 
interfere with their privileges. Ere long the English 
roj'alists became engaged in a death-struggle with de- 
mocracy at home, during which they had little leisure to 
attend to affairs abroad; and the subsequent overthrow of 
the government, and the establishment of a military de- 
mocracy in England, were circumstances highly favorable 
to the growth of republicanism in America. During this 
period the self-governing principle made progress in all 
the colonies, though largely through the example and in- 
fluence of New England. 

The people knew thoroughly what they were about, in 
the formation of the Xew England system of government. 
The doctrine of rotation in office was early established, 
" lest there should be a g-overnor for life." When it was 
proposed that the office should be a life one, the deputies 
immediately resolved that no magisterial office of any 
kind should be held for more than a year. In one case 
where a caucus of justices nominated certain pei-sons for 
election, the people took good care to elect none of the 
persons so proposed. Another important democratic prin- 
ciple was early adopted, that of making provision for the 



386 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Mokris 

pay of public officers annually, and avoiding the fixation 
of salaries. This system proved very useful subsequently, 
in the conflict with the representatives of roj-alty. Origi- 
nally the councillors, with the governor, constituted the 
whole governing body. When representatives were first 
chosen they sat in the same room with the governor and 
council. In 1644 it was ordained that the two bodies 
should meet in separate chambers. Thus was first con- 
stituted the American legislature of two houses, the coun- 
cillors being annually chosen by the whole body of free- 
men, the representatives by the separate settlements. The 
local government of each townshij? remained in its own 
hands, and the whole organization was a miniatui-e prede- 
cessor of that now existing within the United States of 
America. It was distinctively democratic. The early 
prejudices in favor of rank and title quickly disappeared, 
perfect equality Avas aimed at, and even such titles as those 
of Esquire and Mi*, were applied to but few persons, Good- 
man and Goodwife being the ordinary appellations. Aris- 
tocratic connections in time became a bar to public favor. 
It was not until after the restoration of Charles II. to 
the throne of England that any disposition to interfere 
with the republican government that had quietly grown 
up in New England was manifested. The only restrictions 
which England had placed upon the freedom of these col- 
onies were of a commercial character. These had been 
7'emoved dui-ing the era of the Commonwealth, but were 
renewed after the Eestoration. Only English vessels were 
permitted to trade with the colonies. All articles of Amer- 
ican produce for which there was a demand in England 
were forbidden to be shipped to foreign markets. The 
colonies were even restricted from the privilege of free 
trade with one another; and finally they were forbidden 
to manufacture, for use at home or abroad, any article that 



Morris] POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 387 

would compete with English manufactures. These re- 
strictions gave rise to much complaint on the part of the 
colonists, and were evaded at every opportunity. Other 
sources of difficulty arose from the severe treatment of 
Quakers and others by the New England churchmen. To 
settle all such complaints, royal commissioners were sent 
to Boston in 1664, empowered to act upon all causes of 
colonial disturbance. 

The coming of these commissioners was not viewed with 
favor by the colonists. They were natui-ally alarmed at a 
measure Avhich might result in a restriction of their liber- 
ties, and were disposed to oppose the king's agents at every 
step. The commissioners were resisted, secretly or openly, 
in all the colonies except Ehode Island, which alone re- 
ceived them with deference. Massachusetts boldl}^ asserted 
her rights under the charter, and denied the authority of 
the commissioners, while professing the sincerest loyalty 
to the king. Eventually their mission proved a failure, 
ihe colonists in great part ignoring their measures. They 
were recalled, and the colonial governments went on as 
before. Many years passed away before any other active 
measure was. taken by the king against the colonists. In 
1677 Maine became part of the province of Massachusetts, 
through a decision against the claim of the proprietors. 
In 1680 New Hampshire was separated from Massachu- 
setts, and was made a royal province, — the first instance 
of this kind in New England. In 1681 new sources of 
trouble arose. The vigorous resistance which Massachu- 
setts had long made to the restrictions imposed on the 
freedom of commerce culminated in the defeat of a custom- 
house officer who was sent over for the collection of dues. 
By a policy of passive resistance, delay, and obstruction, 
all his efforts were negatived, and he was finally obliged 
to return empty-handed to England. 



388 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

The time had now arrived for the first open conflict 
between the throne and the colonies. The king had long 
entertained the project of taking the government of the 
colonies into his own hands, and seized this opportunity 
for effecting his purpose. English judges declared that 
Massachusetts had forfeited her charter, through disobe 
dience to the laws of England. Before any further steps 
could be taken, the king died ; but his successor, James II., 
proceeded vigorously to carry out his plans. In 1686 the 
charter government of Massachusetts was succeeded by a 
royal government, under Joseph Dudle}', appointed by the 
king. In December of the same year Sir Edmund Andros 
arrived at Boston with a royal commission as governor of 
all the New England colonies. The acts of Andros we 
have already considered, in a former article, with his 
prompt expulsion from the country on the tidings of the 
revolution in England. The people at once renewed their 
former mode of government, with no immediate objection 
from the new monarch. Earnest efforts were made by 
Massachusetts to obtain a restoration of her charter, but 
without success, the king and his councillors secretly deem- 
ing this too liberal. In 1692 a new charter .was granted, 
which vested the appointment of governor in the king. 
Beyond this there was little interference with colonial lib- 
erty, but the representatives of the people for man}- years 
kept up a violent controversy with the royal governors. 
The latter demanded a fixed and permanent salary. With 
this demand the Assembly refused to comply, claiming the 
right to var}^ the salary each year at their pleasure, and 
so manipulating this right that the amount of the govern- 
ox-'s salary was made to depend upon the character of his 
administration. The people had learned their lesson well, 
and held firmly in hand this useful method of enforcing a 
government in accordance with their ideas of justice and 



Morris] POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 389 

utilitjT'. The controversy finally ended in a compromise, 
in which the claim of the Assembly was admitted, while 
it was agreed that a fixed sum should be voted annually. 

We have given special attention to the political history 
of New England, from its great importance Jis the birth- 
place of American democracy. The other colonies, though 
founded on more aristocratic principles, were strongly 
affected by its example, and strove vigorously to gain 
similarh' liberal institutions. The earliest of these, that 
of Virginia, was, by its fii'st charter, under the supreme 
government of a council residing in England and appointed 
b}^ the king, who likewise appointed a council of members 
of the colony, for its local administration. Thus all ex- 
ecutive and legislative powers were directly controlled by 
the king, and no rights of self-government were granted 
the people. Virginia formed the only British colony in 
America of which the monarch thus retained the control. 
The colonial councils consisted of seven persons, who were 
to elect a president from their own number. John Smith 
was made president in 1608, the year after their arrival. 
In 1609 a new charter was given to the London Company, 
by which the English councillors were to have the privi 
lege of filling vacancies by their own votes, and were 
empowered to appoint a governor for Virginia, whose 
powers were very despotic. The lives, libert}?-, and prop- 
erty of the colonists were placed almost at his sole dis- 
posal. The governor appointed, Lord Delaware, and his 
successor. Sir Thomas Dale, fortunately proved men of 
moderate and wise views. In 1612 still another charter 
was granted. This abolished the superior council, and 
transferred its powers to the company as a whole. But it 
failed to give any political rights to the colonists. Under 
the administration of George Yeardley, appointed gov- 
ernor in 1619, the first step towards popular rights was 
I. 33* 



390 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

taken. Martial law, which had before prevailed, was 
abolished, and a colonial Assembly was convened, con 
sisting of two burgesses or representatives from each of 
the eleven boroughs into which the colony was divided. 
But the measures passed by the Assembly were to be of 
no force until ratified by the company in England. In 
1G21 a written constitution was granted to the colony by 
the company, which ratified the ai'rangement made b}^ 
Yeardley and added to it the highly-important provision 
that no orders of the company in England should have 
binding force upon the colony until ratified by the As- 
sembly. Trial by jury was also established, and courts 
on the English model were organized. The privileges 
granted by this constitution were ever afterwards claimed 
as rights, and constituted a valuable preliminary towards 
complete civil liberty in Virginia. Soon afterwards the 
king, not relishing the freedom of debate manifested in 
the colonial Assembly, and the contests between the liber- 
alists and the loyalists, with the growing prevalence of 
liberal sentiments, sought to overawe the Assemblies and 
thus control the elections of officers. As this proved in- 
efficacious, a judicial decision against the corporation was 
obtained, and the company dissolved, the king taking 
direct control of the colony and erecting it into a royal 
government. Yet no effort was made to wrest fi*om the 
colonists the right to a representative government, which 
the company had granted them. This privilege they ever 
afterwards retained, and the fact of its possession under 
royal auspices formed a valuable lesson for the future 
proprietaries, who could not hope to obtain colonists for 
their lands under a constitution more stringent than that 
of Yirginia, though the}" could not be expected to con- 
cede the full measure of freedom enjoyed in New England. 
The government was now administered by a governor 



Morris] POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 391 

and ten councillors, acting under the instructions of the 
king, but the colonial Assembly continued its annual ses 
sions. In fact, Virginia, through its whole history, was 
the most loyal of the colonies. It was the one colony 
which had been settled largely by royalists and members 
of the Established Church, and the Virginians continued 
warmly loyal to the throne and the Church while Puritan- 
ism and republicanism were rapidly gaining the control in 
England. The intolerance in religious matters which New 
England displayed in favor of Puritanism was here mani- 
fested in favor of the Church of England, and the legis- 
lature ordered that no minister should preach except in 
conformity to the doctrines of that Church. After the 
formation of the Commonwealth in England the Virginian 
royalists recognized Charles II. as their sovereign, and it 
required the presence of a Parliamentary naval force in 
their harbors to bring them into a recognition of the 
Commonwealth. The news of the restoration of Charles 
II. was gladly received in the colony, and the friends of 
royalty quickly gained controlling power in the Assembly. 
Yet the people soon had reason to regret the change of 
government. The policy of commercial restriction was 
made more stringent than ever, and Virginia suffered 
from it more severely than any of the other colonies. 
It was decided that all the export and import trade of 
the colonies should employ none but English vessels, and 
that tobacco, the principal product of Virginia, should be 
sent only to England. The trade between the colonies 
was likewise taxed for the benefit of England. Remon- 
strances against these oppressive laws proved of no avail, 
while discontent was also caused by large grants of Vir- 
ginia territory to royal favorites. Meanwhile, the aristo- 
cratic party in the legislature had seriously abridged the 
liberties of the people. Religious intolerance increased, 



392 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

Quakers and Baptists were heavily fined, the taxes became 
oppressive, and the Assembly, instead of dissolving at the 
end of its term, continued in session, thus virtually abolish- 
ing the representative system of government. These were 
some of the evils which gave rise to the so-called " rebel- 
lion" of Nathaniel Bacon, and which caused so many of 
the planters to sustain him. His effort, however, proved 
of no efficacy in restoring the liberties of the people, and 
the oppressive system of government long continued. 

Of the proprietary colonies of America the oldest was 
that of Mar^'land, which was founded under a grant of 
land made to Lord Baltimore in 1632. Its charter was 
of marked liberality, the emigrants having the right to 
worship God as they wished, w^hile politically they were 
equals. The laws of the province were to be subject to 
the approbation of a majority of the freemen or their 
deputies. At first the members of the colony convened 
in General Assembly for legislative purposes, the first As- 
sembly being held in 1635. But in 1639 a representative 
government was adopted, the people sending delegates to 
the Assembl}'. The governor of the province was ap- 
pointed by the proprietor. In a preceding article we have 
considered the succession of political events in Maryland, 
and it will suffice to say here that, after a long subversion 
of the proprietary government, the Calyerts again gained 
control, and that Maryland continued under their rule 
until the Eevolution. 

The Carolinas were gi'anted to a body of eight propri- 
etors in 1653, under a charter which gave the people re- 
ligious freedom and a voice in legislation, but reserved 
nearl}' the whole power to the proprietary corporation. 
Somewhat later Locke's despotic scheme of government 
(explained in a preceding article) was adopted. Yet the 
eff'ort to establish it proved abortive. The people saw the 



Morris] POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 393 

colonies to the north of them governing themselves, and 
refused to submit to a government in which they had no 
voice. They established a republican government of their 
own, elected delegates to a popular Assembly, drove out 
tyrannical governors and replaced them by men of their 
own choice, and in all displa^'ed an aptness for and a ten 
dency to self-government equal to those of any other of the 
colonies. For a short period the Church of England was 
made supreme in South Carolina by the proprietors, and 
all dissenters were excluded from the legislature. Com- 
plaint was made to the English Parliament, and soon after 
the disfranchising laws were repealed by the colonial As- 
sembly ; but the Church of England remained the estab- 
lished form of religion till the Revolution. 

In New York, under the Dutch, the example of self- 
government displaj'ed in New England caused much dis- 
satisfaction with the arbitrary rule which prevailed, and 
gave rise to popular demands for greater privileges and a 
share in the government. The people were very read}', 
on the occasion of the English invasion, to submit to their 
new rulers, in the hope of gaining increased liberty. Yet 
they found themselves under as severe a despotism as be- 
fore, and made the same protest that had been heard in 
the other colonies, that taxation without representation 
was unjust and oppressive. Thej^ obtained answer from 
their governor that the taxes should be made so heavy 
that they would have time to think of nothing else but 
how to pay them. This oppression continued till 1683, 
when, under the advice of William Penn, the Duke of 
York ordered the governor to call an Assembly 'X)f repre- 
sentatives. This Assembly passed an important " charter 
of liberties," which was approved by the governor. This 
charter placed the supreme legislative power in the gov- 
ernor, council, and j)eople met in general assembly, gave 



394 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

to every freeman full right to vote for representatives, 
established trial by jurj-, required that no tax whatever 
should be assessed without the consent of the Assembly, 
and that no professing Christian should be questioned con- 
cerning his religion. The privileges here claimed were 
not fully conceded. Several of the governors proved op- 
pressive and ruled the colony despotically. But the right 
of self-government, so far as it had been attained, was 
never again yielded. The dispute, of which we have pi'e- 
viously spoken, in 1732, between the liberal and the aristo- 
cratic parties, which was decided in favor of the former, 
showed clearly the prevailing liberal sentiments of the 
people. The editor who had been thrown into prison for 
a libel against the government was acquitted, and Andrew 
Hamilton, one of his counsel, was highly applauded for 
bis eloquent defence of the rights of mankind and of free 
speech by the press. 

The charter granted by Charles II. to William Penn 
for the govei'nment of Penns34vania was very liberal in 
its provisions, but not sufficiently so to meet the enlarged 
views of the proprietoi', who at the outstart promised his 
colonists that they should be a free people and be governed 
by laws of their own making. In 1682 he published his 
" frame of government," which was to be submitted to the 
people of the province for approval. In 1683 this was 
amended, in the second Assembly of the province, and a 
charter of liberties granted which made Pennsylvania 
almost fully a representative democracy. The right of 
appointment of judicial and executive officers, which was 
reserved "by the proprietors of the other colonies, was sur- 
I'endered by William Penn to the people, and the govern- 
ment consisted of the proprietor and the Assembly, with 
no intermediate council, as in Marj-land and elsewhere. 
Yet, liberal as this constitution was, the people soon de- 



Morris] POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 395 

manded further concessions and privileges, and Penn, in 
his last visit to his province, granted a new charter, still 
more liberal, and conferring greater powers upon the 
people, who from this time forward possessed a very full 
measure of political liberty. 

The bi'ief review we have here given of the develop- 
ment of political institutions in the English colonies in 
America will serve to show that they had attained a 
fair measure of political liberty at the period which we 
have now reached (the close of the French and Indian 
War), and had little or no occasion for discontent concern- 
ing their governmental rights and privileges. Unlike the 
French and Spanish colonists, who had no experience of 
parliamentary government and readily submitted to the 
rule of despotic governors, the British colonists were 
thoroughly indoctrinated in legislative principles, and 
came from a country in which at the period of some of 
the emigrations the people were rising in defence of their 
natural rights, and at the period of others had subverted 
the monarchy and founded a democracy on its ruins. Very 
naturall}^, therefore, the American colonists insisted upon 
a considerable degree of self-government in their new 
home, and extended this civil liberty even beyond the 
measure of that of the English Commonwealth, taking 
advantage of the many opportunities affoi'ded them by 
the dissensions existing in the mother-country. As a con- 
sequence of this persistent struggle for the privilege of 
self-government, New England became almost a full repub- 
lic, Pennsylvania was little behind it in the legislative free- 
dom of its people, and the other colonies gained the right 
of making their own laws, with more or less interference 
from the royal governors. 

So far, therefore, as legislative power and religious free- 
dom were concerned, the colonists had little to complain 



396 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

of. and had there been no deeper cause of discontent the 
American Eevolution would never have taken place. And 
through this long experience of self-government by the 
people of the colonies was acquired an extended knowl- 
edge of the principles of government, and a vigorous dem- 
ocratic sentiment, which rendered the form of government 
adopted by independent America an inevitable necessity 
of the situation, while the political ability displayed by 
its founders was the resultant of a long experience in 
self-rule, and no original outburst of legislative genius, as 
is so generally supposed. 

The causes of the discontent which we have now to 
consider were industrial and executive, not legislative, 
and consisted of those stringent commercial and maiiufac- 
turino- reirulatioris, and the ckxim of the crown to unre- 
stricted powers of taxation, which had for a long period 
been resisted by the colonies. In their earlier and weaker 
daj^s these evils were of secondary importance, but with 
every step of growth in population, and of development 
of the resources of America, the right to trade with \vhom 
they pleased and to manufacture what they pleased be- 
came of greater importance to the colonists, until finally 
the restrictions in these respects grew insupportable. In 
regard to the question of taxation, the people of Massa 
chusetts at an early date strongly disputed the right of 
taxation without representation. As time went on, this 
sentiment spread to the other colonies, and had become 
vigorously im))lanted in the minds of all Americans by the 
era immediately preceding the Eevolution. That principle 
which had been long fought for and eventually gained in 
the home country, that the people, through their represent- 
atives, alone had the power to lay taxes, was naturally 
claimed in America as an essential requisite of a repre- 
sentative government ; and it was mainly to the effort of 



1 



HowiTT] ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES. 397 

the English authorities to deprive the colonists of this 
right that the American Eevolution was due. 



ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES. 

MARY IIOWITT. 

[From the gracefully-written work of an English author we select 
a description of the condition of the colonies, and their relations to 
the mother-country, in the period immediately succeeding the French 
and Indian War, extending the review to the date of the passage of 
the Stamp Act. The most important event of the period, outside 
of the political difficulties, was that known as Pontiac's Conspiracy, 
an Indian war of extended proportions and, for a time, of phenome- 
nal success. Pontiac, a Shawnee chief, in the year 1763, organized a 
scheme of attack upon the frontier forts and settlements, the details 
of which were arranged with the utmost craft and secrecy. The 
Cherokees, and the Six Nations with the exception of the Senecas, 
kept out of the conspiracj^, but the tribes of the Ohio, and most of 
those on the eastern side of the Mississippi, and in the vicinity of 
Detroit, were included, the leading tribes being the Shawnees and 
Dela wares. 

At the appointed time the warriors fell furiously upon the fron- 
tiers of Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania. Great numbers of 
the settlers were massacred, though many took the alarm in time to 
escape. For twenty miles inland the settlements were ruined. The 
traders among the Indians were murdered and their effects seized by 
the savages. But the most important result of the outbreak, from a 
military point of view, was the capture of several of the frontier forts. 
A number of the smaller forts — Le Bceuf, Venango, Presque Isle, 
Michilimackinac, and others — were taken by the savages, and the 
garrisons generally massacred. The large and important forts of De- 
troit, Niagara, and Pittsburg were fiercely assailed. Amherst quickly 
sent detachments to relieve these forts. That sent to Detroit, after 
reinforcing the garrison, fell into an ambuscade of the enemy, and met 
I. 34 



398 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howitt 

with heavy loss. The renminder took refuge in the fort, from which 
the besiegers soon after retired. 

The fort of Pittsburg was assailed with unusual skill and obstinacy 
for Indian combatants. The post was ill prepared for a siege, and wa.s 
maintained with difficulty against the furious assault. An expedition 
under Colonel Bouquet, sent to its relief, was ambuscaded on the 
march, and furiously assailed. The assault was one of the most per- 
sistent and skilfully conducted ever made by Indians, and only the 
steady discipline of the English and the skill of their leader saved 
them from destruction. For seven hours the battle continued, and it 
was renewed the next day with undiminished fury. The English 
were worn out by the repeated assaults of the ferocious enemy, who 
displayed a combined caution and intrepidity which were gradually 
wasting awaj- the troops. Advance and retreat became alike impos- 
sible, and complete destruction seemed inevitable. At this crisis 
Colonel Bouquet essayed a manoeuvre which fortunately proved suc- 
cessful. Part of the troops retired as if in flight, while the others 
seemed endeavoring to cover the flight. On perceiving this, the sav- 
ages abandoned their cautious tactics, and, emerging from their covers, 
rushed in rage and triumph on the seemingly flying army. This was 
what Bouquet had desired, and, the English turning on them with the 
skill and vigor of disciplined troops, they were muted with immense 
slaughter. Several of their ablest chiefs fell, and, despairing of success, 
they fled in terror. Four days afterwards. Bouquet reached the fort, 
from which the besiegers at once withdrew. 

An assault was now made on the fort at Niagara. The same tactics 
were applied here. A convoy of provisions was assailed and captured ; 
and a lake-fight took place between canoes and a provision-schooner, 
in which the savages were repulsed. Finally the fort was relieved ; 
but the Indians continued a predatory warfare until the following 
spring and summer, when they were assailed with such spirit and suc- 
cess that they were forced to sue for peace. The articles of the treaty 
were very stringent, and greatly increased the strength of the English 
hold on the Western country. 

One unfortunate result of this war was the inflaming of the passions 
of the settlers to deeds of unprovoked murder. A society of peaceful 
Indians, converted to Christianity by the Moravian missionaries, re- 
siding in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, were attacked and indis- 
criminately butchered by a party of settlers from the neighboring 
township of Paxton. These " Paxton Boj-s" even broke open the jail 



Howitt] ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES. 399 

at Lancaster, and murdered the Indians who had been phiced there as 
a measure of safety. The proclamations of the governor against these 
outrages were disdained, and the sanguinary mob marched upon Phila- 
delphia, with the purpose of slaughtering the Indians who had been 
taken thither. There was much sympathy with the murderers in the 
city; but a body of the more respectable inhabitants, including many 
young Quakers, armed in defence of the refugees. The Paxton Boys 
advanced to Gerniantown, the governor fled in dismay, and the prov- 
ince seemed on the brink of civil war. Franklin and some others, 
however, expostulated with the insurgents, and finally prevailed on 
them to give up their purpose and return home. 

The accompanying account of political events we extract from Marj 
Howitt's " History of the United States."] 

The war between England and France, though at an 
end on the continent of America, was still continued 
among the West India islands, France in this case also 
being the loser. Martinique, Grenada, St. Lucia, St. Yin- 
cent's, — every island, in fact, which France possessed 
among the Caribbees. — passed into the hands of the Eng- 
lish. Besides Avhich. being at the same time at war with 
Spain, England toolv possession of Havana, the key to the 
whole trade of the Gulf of Mexico. 

In November, 1763, a treaty of peace was signed at 
Paris, which led to farther changes, all being favorable 
to Britain; whilst Martinique, Guadeloupe, and St. Lucia 
were restored to France, England took possession of St. 
Vincent's, Dominica, and Tobago islands, which had 
hitherto been considered neutral. By the same treaty all 
the vast territory east of the Mississij^pi, from its source 
to the Gulf of Mexico, with the exception of the island 
of New Orleans, was yielded up to the British ; and Spain, 
in return for Havana, ceded her possession of Florida. 
Thus, says Hildreth, was vested in the British crown, as 
far as the consent of rival European claimants could give 
it. the sovereis-ntv of the whole eastern half of North 



•400 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howitt 

America, from the Gulf of Mexico to Hudson's Bay and 
the Polar Ocean. By the same treaty the navigation of 
the Mississippi was free to both nations. France at the 
dame time gave to Spain, as a compensation for her losses 
in the war, all Louisiana west of the Mississippi, which 
contained at that time about ten thousand inhabitants, to 
whom this transfer was very unsatisfactory. . . . 

The conquest of Canada and the subjection of the East- 
ern Indians giving security to the colonists of Maine, that 
province began to expand and flourish. The counties 
of Cumberland and Lincoln were added to the former 
single county of York, and settlers began to occujiy the 
lower Kennebec and to extend themselves along the coast 
towards the Penobscot. Nor was this northern expansion 
confined alone to Maine; settlers began to occupy both 
sides of the upper Connecticut, and to -advance into new 
regions beyond the Green Mountains towards Lake Cham- 
plain, a beautiful and fertile country which had first be- 
come known to the colonists in the late war. Homes were 
growing up in Yerraont. In the same manner population 
extended westward beyond the Alleghanies as soon as the 
Indian disturbances were allayed in that direction. The 
go-ahead principle was ever active in British America. 
The population of Georgia was beginning to increase 
greatl}^, and in 1763 the first newspaper of that colony 
was published, called the "Georgia Gazette." A vital 
principle was operating also in the new province of East 
Florida, now that she ranked among the British posses- 
sions. In ten years more was done for the colony than 
had been done through the whole period of the Spanish 
occupation. A colony of Greeks settled about this time 
on the inlet still known as New Smyrna ; and a body of 
settlers from the banks of the Roanoke planted themselves 
in West Florida, near Baton Roug-e. 



HowiTT] ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES. 401 

Nor was this increase confined to the newer provinces : 
the older ones progressed in the same degree. Hildreth 
calls this the golden age of Virginia, Marj'land, and South 
Carolina, which were increasing in population and produc- 
tions at a rate unknown before or since. In the North, 
leisure was found for the cultivation of literature, ai't, and 
social refinement. The six colonial colleges were crowded 
with students ; a medical college was established in Penn- 
sylvania, the first in the colonies ; and "West and Cople}', 
both born in the same year, — the one in New York, the 
other in Boston. — proved that genius Avas native to the 
New World, though the Old afforded richer patronage. 
Besides all this, the late wars and the growing diflSculties 
with the mother-country had called forth and trained able 
commanders for the field, and sagacious intellects for the 
control of the great events which were at hand. 

A vast amount of debt, as is always the case with wai", 
was the result of the late contests in America. With 
peace, the costs of the struggle began to be reckoned. 
The colonies had lost, by disease or the sword, above thirty 
thousand men ; and their debt amounted to about four 
million pounds, Massachusetts alone having been reim- 
bursed by Parliament. The popular power had, however, 
grown in various ways ; the colonial Assemblies had re- 
sisted the claims of the ro\*al and proprietary governors 
to the management and irresponsible expenditure of the 
large sums which were raised for the war, and thus the 
executive influence became transferred in considerable 
degree from the governors to the colonial Assemblies. 
Another and still more dangerous result was the martial 
spirit which had sprung up, and the discovery of the 
powerful means which the colonists held in their hands for 
settling any disputed points of authority and right with 
the mother-country. The colonies had of late been a 



402 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howitt 

military college to her cilizens, in which, though they had 
performed the hardest service and had been extremely 
offended and annoyed by the superiority assumed by the 
British officers and their own subordination, yet they had 
been well trained, and had learned their own power and 
resources. The conquest of New France, in great measure, 
cost England her colonies. 

England at the close of the war— at the close, in fact, 
of four wars within seventy years — found herself burdened 
with a debt of one hundred and forty million pounds; and 
as it was necessary now to keep a standing army in her 
colonies, to defend and maintain her late conquests, the 
scheme of colonial taxation to provide a regular and certain 
revenue began again to be agitated. Already England 
feared the growing power and independence of her colo- 
nies, and even at one moment hesitated as to whether it 
were not wiser to restore Canada to France, in order that 
the proximity of a powerful rival might keep them in 
check and secure their dependence on the mother-country. 
As far as the colonists themselves were concerned, we are 
assured by their earlier historians that the majority had 
no idea of or wish to separate themselves from England, 
and that the utmost which they contemplated by the 
conquest of Canada was the freedom from French and 
Indian wars, and that state of tranquil prosperity which 
would leave them at liberty to cultivate and avail them- 
selves of the productions and resources of an affluent land. 
The true causes which slowly alienated the colonies from 
the pai-ent state may be traced back to the early encroach- 
ments on their civil rights and the restrictive enactments 
against their commerce. 

The Americans were a bold and independent people from 
the beginning. They came to the shores of the New 
World, the greater and better part of them, republicans 



HowiTT] ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES. 403 

in feeling and pi'inciple. " They were men who scoffed at 
the rights of kings, and looked upon rulers as public ser- 
vants bound to exercise their authority for the benefit of 
the government, and ever maintained that it is the inalien- 
able right of the subject freely to give his money to the 
crown or to withhold it at his discretion." Such were the 
Americans in principle, yet were they bound to the mother- 
country by old ties of affection, and by no means wished 
to rush into rebellion. It was precisely the case of the 
son grown to years of discretion, whom an unreasonable 
parent seeks still to coerce, until the hitherto dutiful 
though clear-headed and resolute son violently breaks the 
bonds of parental authority and asserts the independence 
of his manhood. The human being would have been less 
worthy in submission ; the colonies would have belied the 
strong race which planted them, had they done otherwise. 
England believed that she had a right to dictate and 
change the government of the colonies at her pleasure, 
and to regulate and restrict their commerce ; and for some 
time this was, if not patiently submitted to, at least allowed. 
The navigation acts declared that, for the benefit of Brit- 
ish shipping, no mei'chandise from the English colonies 
should be imported into England excepting by English 
vessels ; and, for the benefit of English manufacturers, pro- 
hibited exportation from the colonies, nor allowed articles 
of domestic manufacture to be carried from one colony to 
another; she forbade hats, at one time, to be made in the 
colony where beaver abounded ; at another, that any hat- 
ter should have above two apprentices at one time ; she 
subjected rum, sugar, and molasses to exorbitant duties on 
importation ; she forbade the erection of iron-works and 
the preparation of steel, or the felling of jDitch and white- 
pine trees unless in enclosed lands. To some of these 
laws, though felt to be an encroachment on their rights, 



404 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howitt 

the colonies submitted patiently ; others, as, for instance, 
the duties on sugar and molasses, they evaded and opposed 
in every possible way, and the British authorities, from 
the year 1733, when these duties were first imposed, to 
1761, made but little resistance to this opposition. At this 
latter date, however, George III. having then ascended 
the throne, and being, as Charles Townshend described 
him, " a very obstinate young man," it was determined to 
enforce this law, and " writs of assistance," in other words, 
search-warrants, were issued, by means of which the royal 
custom-house officers were authorized to search for goods 
which had been imported without the payment of duty. 
The people of Boston opposed and resented these meas- 
ures ; and their two most eminent lawyers, Oxenbridge 
Thacher and James Otis, expressed the public sentiment 
in the strongest language. Spite of search-warrants and 
official vigilance, the payment of these duties was still 
evaded, and smuggling increased to a great extent, while 
the colonial trade with the West Indies was nearly de- 
stroyed. 

In 1764 the sugar-duties were somewhat reduced, as a 
boon to the colonies, but new duties were imposed on arti- 
cles which had hitherto been imported free ; at the same 
time. Lord Grenville proposed a new impost in the form 
of a stamp-tax. All pamphlets, almanacs, newspapers, all 
bonds, notes, leases, policies of insurance, together with all 
papers used for legal purposes, in order to be valid were 
to be drawn on stamped paper, to be purchased only from 
the kiui^'s officers appointed for that purpose. This plan 
met with the entire approbation of the British Parliament, 
but its enactment was deferred until the following year, in 
order that the colonies might have an opportunity of ex- 
pressing their feelings on the subject. Though deference 
was thus apparently paid to their wishes, the intention 



Howitt] ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES. 405 

of the British government was no longer concealed. The 
preamble of the bill openly avowed the intention of rais- 
ing revenue from "his majesty's dominions in America;" 
the same act gave increased power to the admiralty courts, 
and provided more stringent means for enforcing the pay- 
ment of duties and punishing their evasion. 

The colonies received the news of these proposed meas- 
ures with strong indignation. Massachusetts instructed 
her agent in London to deny the right of Parliament to 
impose duties and taxes on a people who were not repre- 
•^ented in the House of Commons. " If we are not repre- 
sented," said they, " we are slaves." A combination of all 
the colonies for the defence of their common interests was 
suggested. 

Otis, who had published a pamphlet on Colonial Eights, 
seeing the tide of public indignation rising very high, 
inculcated " obedience" and '• the duty of submission;" but 
this was not a doctrine which the Americans were then in 
a state of mind to listen to. Better suited to their feeling 
wus Thacher's pamphlet against all Parliamentary taxa- 
tion. Ebode Island expressed the same; so did Maryland, 
by the secretary of the province ; so did Virginia, by a 
leading member of her House of Burgesses. Strong as 
the expression of resentment was in the colonies, addresses 
in a much milder strain were prepared to the king and 
Parliament from most of them, New York alone express- 
ing boldly and decidedly the true nature of her feelings, 
the same tone being maintained b}' Ehode Island. 

But the minds of the British monarch and his ministers 
were not to be influenced either by the remonstrances and 
pleadings of the colonies or their agents in London, or of 
their few friends in Parliament. Grrenville, the minister, 
according to prearrangement, brought in his bill for col- 
lecting a stamp-tax in America, and it passed the House 



406 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hildreth 

of Commons five to one, and in the House of Lords there 
was neither division on the subject nor the slightest oppo- 
sition. This act was to come into operation on the 1st 
day of November of the same year. It was on the occa- 
sion of its discussion in the House of Commons that 
Colonel Barre, who had fought with Wolfe at Louisburg 
and Quebec, electrified the House with his burst of elo- 
quence in reply to one of the ministers who spoke of the 
colonists as " childi-en planted by our care, nourished bj 
our indulgence, and protected by our arms." " They 
planted by your care !" retorted Barre. " No ; your op- 
pression planted them iu America. They nourished by 
your indulgence ! They grew up by your neglect of them. 
They protected by your arms ! Those sons of liberty 
have nobly taken up arms in your defence. I claim to 
know more of America than most of j'ou, having been 
conversant in that country. The people, I believe, are as 
truly loyal subjects as the king has, but a people jealous 
of their liberties, and who will vindicate them should they 
ever be violated." 

The day after the Stamp Act had passed the House, 
Benjamin Franklin, then in London as agent for Phila- 
delphia, wrote the news to his friend Charles Thomson. 
" The sun of liberty," said he, " is set ; you must light up 
the candles of industry and economy." " We shall light 
up torches of quite another kind," was the reply. 



HOW THE STAMP ACT WAS RECEIVED IN AMERICA. 

RICHARD HILDRETH. 

[Although the British Parliament had passed, and refused to repeal, 
highly oppressive acts regarding commerce and manufactures, it had 
never hitherto attempted to levy direct taxes. The nearest approach 



HiLDRETH] HOW THE STAMP ACT WAS RECEIVED. 407 

to this was in the rates for postage ; but in these the pay was volun- 
tary and for services rendered, and it provoked no opposition. The 
proposition, therefore, to hiy a direct tax on the colonies was re- 
ceived by them all with disapproval, though the degrees of outspoken 
dissent widely differed. In Boston, which had always been the centre 
of democratic sentiment in America, the protest was made in no un- 
certain tone. The House of Representatives resolved, " That the im- 
position of duties and taxes by the Parliament of Great Britain, upon 
a people not represented in the House of Commons, is absolutely ir- 
reconcilable with their rights." The pamphlet issued by James Otis, 
mentioned in the preceding article, vigorously asserted this principle, 
and declared, " If we are not represented, we are slaves." He main- 
tained, as one of the " natural rights of man," that taxes could not be 
levied upon the people " but by their consent in person or by deputa- 
tion." The energetic protests published greatly intensified the feeling 
of resistance to the Parliamentary scheme. The passage of the Stamp 
Act, therefore, was regarded throughout America as a high-handed 
violation of the liberties of the people. At the same time a clause 
had been inserted into the Mutiny Act, authorizing as many troops to 
be sent to America as the ministers saw fit. The colonies in which 
these might be stationed were required to furnish them with quarters, 
fire-wood, bedding, drink, soap, and candles. The story of the events 
which followed the passage of these dictatorial acts we select from 
Richard Hildreth's " History of the United States of America," a work 
which, while lacking vivacity of manner, is justly valued for its merit 
as a trustworthy history.] 

News of the passage of these acts reached Yirginia 
while the Assembly was sitting. The ai'istocratic leaders 
in that body hesitated. Tlie session approached its close, 
and not one word seemed likely to be said. But the rights 
of the colonies did not fail of an advocate. Patrick Henry 
had already attracted the attention of the House by his 
successful opposition to Eobinson's proposed paper money 
loan. Finding the older and more weighty members un- 
likely to move, he assumed the responsibility of intro- 
ducing a series of resolutions which claimed for the inhab- 
itants of Yirginia all the rights of born British subjects; 



408 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hildreth 

denied any authority an}- where, except in the provincial 
Assembly, to impose taxes upon them; and denounced the 
attempt to vest that authority elsewhere, as inconsistent 
with the ancient Constitution, and subversive of British 
as well as of American liberty. Upon the introduction of 
these resolutions a hot debate ensued. " Caesar had his 
Brutus," said Henry, " Charles I. his Cromwell, and George 

III. " " Treason ! treason !" shouted the Speaker, and 

the cry was re-echoed from the House. " George III.," 
said Henry, firmly, " may profit by their example. If that 
be treason, make the most of it !" In spite of the ojDposi- 
tion of all the old leaders, the resolutions passed, the fifth 
and most emphatic by a majority of only one vote. The 
next da}', in Henry's absence, the resolutions were recon- 
sidered, softened, and the fifth struck out. But a manu- 
script copy had already been sent to Philadelphia ; and, 
circulating through the colonies in their original form, 
these resolutions gave everywhere a strong impulse to the 
jjopular feeling. 

[In Massachusetts a committee recommended that a convention or 
congress, composed of deputies from the several colonies, should meet 
at New York in the following October, to consider what action the 
colonies should take in regard to the recent acts.] 

Before the stamps reached America, symptoms of a 
violent ferment appeared. A great elm in Boston, at the 
corner of the present Washington and Essex Streets, under 
which the opponents of the Stamp Act were accustomed 
to assemble, soon became famous as " liberty tree." Those 
persons supposed to favor the ministry were hung in effigy 
on the branches of this elm. A mob attacked the house 
of Oliver, secretary of the colony, who had been appointed 
stamp-distributor for Massachusetts, broke his windows, 
destroyed his furniture, pulled down a small building sup- 
posed to be intended for a stamp office, and frightened 



HiLDRETH] HOW THE STAMP ACT WAS RECEIVED. 409 

Oliver into a resignation. Jonathan Mayhew, the able 
minister of the West Church in Boston, . . . preached a 
warm sermon against the Stamp Act, taking for his text, 
"I would they were even cut off which trouble you!" 
The Monday evening after this sermon the riots were re- 
newed. The mob attacked the house of Story, registrar 
of the Admiralt}", and destroyed not only the public files 
and records, but his private papers also. Next they en- 
tered and plundered the house of the controller of the 
customs ; and, maddened with liquor and excitement, pro- 
ceeded to the mansion of Hutchinson, in North Square. 
The lieutenant-governor and his family fled for their lives. 
The house was completelj' gutted, and the contents burned 
in bonfires kindled in the square. Along with Hutchin- 
son's furniture and private papers perished many invalu- 
able manuscripts relating to the history of the province, 
which Hutchinson had been thirty years in collecting, and 
which it was impossiljle to replace. 

[These acts were disclaimed by the more respectable citizens. Yet 
the rioters, though well known, went unpunished, and had undoubtedly 
the secret sympathy of the community.] 

Throughout the Northern colonies, associations on the 
basis of forcible resistance to the Stamp Act, under the 
name of " Sons of Liberty," sprang suddenly into existence. 
Persons of influence and consideration, though they might 
favor the object, kept aloof, however, fi"om so dangerous 
a combination, which consisted of the young, the ardent, 
those who loved excitement and had nothing to lose. The 
history of these "Sons of Liberty" is very obscure; but 
they seem to have spread rapidly from Connecticut and 
New York into Massachusetts, Pennsjdvania, and New 
Jersey, and to have taken up as their special business the 
intimidation of the stamp officers. In all the colonies these 
I.— s 35 



410 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hildreth 

officers were persuaded or compelled to resign ; and such 
stamps as arrived either remained unpacked, or else were 
seized and burned. The Assembly of Pennsylvania unan- 
imously adopted a series of resolutions denouncing the 
Stamp Act as - unconstitutional, and subversive of theii 
dearest rights." Public meetings to protest against it were 
held throughout the colonies. The holding of such meet- 
ings was quite a new incident, and formed a new era in 
colonial history. 

[On the day appointed by Massachusetts for the meeting of the 
First Colonial Congress, committees from nine colonies met in ^e\v 
York. Various reasons prevented the others from joining.] 

In the course of a three weeks' session, a Declaration 
of the Eights and Grievances of the Colonies was agreed 
to. All the privileges of Englishmen were claimed by this 
declaration as the birthright of the colonists, — among the 
rest, the right of being taxed only by their own consent. 
Since distance and local circumstances made a represen 
tation in the British Parliament impossible, these repre 
sentatives, it was maintained, could be no other than the 
several colonial Legislatures. Thus was given a flat neg- 
ative to a scheme lately broached in England by Pownall 
and others for allowing to the colonies a representation in 
Parliament, a project to which both Otis and Franklin 
seem at first to have leaned. 

A petition to the king and memorials to each House ot 
Parliament were also prepared, in which the cause of the 
colonies was eloquently pleaded. . . . The several colonial 
Assemblies, at their earliest sessions, gave to the proceed- 
ings a cordial approval. . . . 

The first day of November, appointed for the Stamp 
Act to go into operation, came and went, but not a stamp 
was anywhere to be seen. Two companies of rioters 



HiLDRETH] HOW THE STAMP ACT WAS RECEIVED. 411 

paraded that evening the streets of New York, demanding 
the delivery of the stamps, which Golden, on the resigna- 
tion of the stamp-distributor and his refusal to receive 
them, had taken into the fort. Golden was hung in e&gy. 
His carriage was seized, and made a bonfire of under the 
muzzles of the guns; after which the mob proceeded to a 
house in the outskirts, then occupied by Major James, of 
the Eoyal Artillery, who had made himself obnoxious by 
his free comments on the conduct of the colonists. James's 
furniture and property were destroyed, as Hutchinson's 
had been. General Gage, the commander-in-chief of the 
British forces in America, was at New York, but the 
regular garrison in the fort was very small. Alarmed for 
the safety of the city, and not willing to take any respon- 
sibility, as Sir Henry Moore, the recently-appointed gov- 
ernor, was every day expected, Golden agreed, by Gage's 
advice, the captain of a British ship of war in the harbor 
having refused to receive them, to give up the stamps 
to the mayor and corporation. They were accordingly 
deposited in the Gity Hall, under a receipt given by the 
mayor. 

[A committee was next day appointed which] soon 
brought forward an agreement to import no more goods 
from Great Britain till the Stamp Act was repealed, — the 
commencement of a system of retaliation on the mother- 
country repeatedly resorted to in the course of the strug- 
gle. This non-importation agreement, to which a non- 
consumption agreement was presently added, besides being 
extensively signed in New York, was adopted also in 
Philadelphia and Boston. At the same time, and as part 
of the same plan, a combination was entered into for the 
support of American manufactures, the wearing of Amer- 
ican cloths, and the increase of sheep by ceasing to eat 
lamb or mutton. 



412 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hildreth 

Business, suspended for a while, was presently resumed. 
Stamped papers were required in judicial proceedings, but 
by continuing the eases before them, or going on without 
notice of the deficiency", even the judges, after some hesita- 
tion, concurred in nullifying the act. 

[A change in the English ministry, news of which now reached 
America, encouraged the colonists in their policy of resistance. Gren- 
ville, the promoter of the Stamp Act, had been succeeded by the 
Marquis of Kockingham.] 

In the address from the throne at the opening of the 
session, the new ministry brought the state of colonial 
atfairs before Parliament. They produced the correspond- 
ence of the colonial governors and other papers relating 
to the late disturbance. Numerous petitions from British 
merchants for the repeal of the Stamp Act were also 
presented to the two Houses. 

Pitt, for some time past withdrawn by sickness from 
public affairs, was unconnected, at this moment, with 
either Grenville's or Rockingham's party. He now ap- 
peared in his place in the House of Commons, and de- 
livered his opinion "that the kingdom had no right to 
levy a tax on the colonies." "The Commons in America, 
represented in their several Assemblies, have invariably 
exercised the constitutional right of giving and granting 
their own money ; they would have been slaves if they 
had not ; at the same time, this kingdom has ever pos- 
sessed the power of legislative and commercial control. 
The colonies acknowledge your authority in all things, 
with the sole exception that you shall not take their 
money out of their pockets without their consent." 

This decisive avowal by Pitt made a profound impres- 
sion on the House. After a long pause, Grenville rose to 
vindicate the Stamp Act. The tumults in America bor- 



Hildreth] how the STAMP ACT WAS RECEIVED. 413 

dered, he averred, on open rebellion ; but if the doctrinea 
now pi-oraulgated were upheld, they would soon lose that 
name, and become a revolution. Taxation was a branch 
of the sovei-eign power, constantly exercised by Parlia- 
ment over the unrepresented. Eesorting, then, to a 
method of intimidation common with politicians, "the 
seditious spirit of the colonies," he said, "owes its birth 
to the faction in this House." This invidious assault was 
met by Pitt with characteristic intrepidity. " A charge is 
brought against gentlemen sitting in this House of giving 
birth to sedition in America. The freedom with which 
they have spoken their sentiments against this unhapp}'' 
act is imputed to them as a crime. But the imputation 
shall not discourage me." " We are told America is obsti- 
nate — America is almost in open rebellion. Sir, I rejoice 
that America has resisted. Three millions of people so 
dead to all the feelings of Hberty as voluntai-ily to siibmit 
to be slaves, would liave been fit instruments to make 
slaves of all the rest." " The Americans have been 
wronged ! They have been driven to madness by in- 
justice! Will you punish them for the madness you havi. 
occasioned ? No ! Let this country be the first to resume 
its prudence and temper; I will pledge myself for the 
colonies, that on their part animosity and resentment will 
cease." 

The new ministry were under no obligation to support 
the policy of their predecessors. Anxious to escape the 
difficulty by the readiest means, they brought in a bill for 
repealing the Stamp Act. Franklin, summoned to the bar 
of the House as a witness, testified that the act could 
never be enforced. His prompt and pointed answers 
gained him great credit for information, acuteness, and 
presence of mind. In favor of repeal, Burke, introduced 
into Parliament b}' Rockingham, to whom he had been 
I. 35* 



414 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Franklin 

private secretary, and for one of whose rotten boroughs 
he sat, gave his eloquent support. In spite of a very 
strenuous opposition on the part of the supporters of the 
late ministry, the bill of repeal was carried in the Com- 
mons by a vote of two hundred and seventy-five to one 
hundred and sixty-seven. 

But the ministers by no means went the length of Pitt. 
They placed the repeal on the ground of expediency 
merely, and they softened the opposition by another bill 
previously passed, which asserted the power and right of 
Parliament •' to bind the colonies in all cases whatsoever." 
Lord Camden, formerly Chief-Justice Pratt, made a vig- 
orous opposition to this bill in the House of Lords'. " My 
position is this — I repeat it ; I will maintain it to the last 
hour — taxation and representation are inseparable. The 
position is founded in the law of nature. It is more ; it is 
itself an eternal law of nature." Lord Mansfield, on the 
other hand, maintained the sovereign power of Parliament 
as including the right to tax, — an idea quite too flattering 
to the pride of authority to be easily relinquished. 



A PARLIAMENTARY EXAMINATION. 

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

[As a very interesting feature of the literature relating to the pas- 
sage and repeal of the Stamp Act, we select from the works of Frank- 
lin some of the more striking features of his examination before the 
House of Commons, referred to in the preceding article. This selec- 
tion we credit to Franklin (though its actual source is the Journal of 
the House of Commons), since all in it beyond the brief questions is 
due to Franklin himself. As a whole it presents an important picture 



Franklin] A PARLIAMENTARY EXAMINATION. 415 

of the condition and sentiments of the Americans, as reflected in the 
mind of their ablest advocate.] 

1. Q. AVhat is your name, and place of abode? 
A. Franklin, of Ptiiladelphia. 

2. Q. Do the Americans pay any considerable taxes 
among themselves ? 

A. Certainl}^ many, and very heavy taxes. 

3. Q. What are the present taxes in Pennsylvania, laid 
by the laws of the colony ? 

A. There are taxes on all estates real and personal ; a 
poll-tax ; a tax on all offices, professions, trades, and busi- 
nesses, "according to their profits; an excise on all wine, 
rum, and other spirits ; and a duty of ten pounds per head 
on all negroes imported, with some other duties. 

4. Q. For what purposes are those taxes laid ? 

A. For the support of the civil and military establish- 
ments of the country, and to discharge the heavy debt 
contracted in the last war. . . . 

7. Q. Are not all the people very able to pay those 
taxes ? 

A. No. The frontier counties, all along the continent, 
having been frequently ravaged by the enemy and greatly 
impoverished, are able to pay very little tax. And there- 
fore, in consideration of their distresses, our late tax laws 
do expressly favor those counties, excusing the sufferers; 
and I suppose the same is done in other governments. . . . 

22. Q. How many white men do you suppose there are 
in North America ? 

A. About three hundred thousand, from sixteen to sixty 
yeai'S of age. 

23. Q. What may be the amount of one year's imports 
into Pennsylvania from Britain? 

A. I have been informed that our merchants compute 



416 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Franklin 

the imi^orts from Britain to be above five hundred thou- 
sand pounds. 

24. Q. What may be the amount of the produce of your 
province exported to Britain ? 

A. It must be small, as we produce little that is wanted 
in Britain. I suppose it cannot exceed forty thousand 
pounds. . . . 

27. Q. Do you think it right that America should be 
protected by this country and pay no part of the expense ? 

A. That is not the case. The colonies raised, clothed, 
and paid, during the last war, near twenty-five thousand 
men, and spent many millions. 

28. Q. Were you not reimbursed by Parliament? 

A. We were only reimbursed what, in your opinion, 
we had advanced beyond our proportion, or beyond what 
might reasonably be expected from us ; and it was a very 
small part of what we spent. Pennsylvania, in particular, 
disbursed about five hundred thousand pounds, and the 
reimbursements, in the whole, did not exceed sixty thou- 
sand pounds. 

29. Q. You have said that you pay heavy taxes in Penn- 
sylvania ; what do they amount to in the pound ? 

A. The tax on all estates, real and personal, is eighteen 
pence in the pound, full}' rated ; and the tax on the profits 
of trades and professions, with other taxes, do, I suppose, 
make full half a crown in the pound. . . . 

36. Q. What was the temper of America towards Great 
Britain before the year 17^3 ? 

A. The best in the world. They submitted willingly to 
the government of the crown, and paid, in their courts, 
obedience to the acts of Parliament. Numerous as the 
people are in the several old provinces, they cost you 
nothing in forts, citadels, garrisons, or armies, to keep them 
in subjection. They were governed by this country at the 



Franklin I A PARLIAMENTARY EXAMINATION. 417 

expense only of a little pen, ink, and paper ; they were led 
by a thread. They had not only a respect, but an affection 
for Great Britain; for its laws, its customs and manners, 
and even a fondness for its fashions, that greatly increased 
the commerce. Natives of Britain were always treated 
with particular regard ; to be an Old-England man was 
of itself a chai'acter of some respect, and gave a kind of 
rank among us. 

37. Q. And what is their temper now? 

A. Oh, very much altered, . . . 

40. Q. In what light did the people of America use to 
consider the Parliament of Great Britain ? 

A. They considered the Parliament as the great bul- 
wark and security of their liberties and privileges, and 
always spoke of it with the utmost respect and venera- 
tion. Arbitrary ministers, they thought, might possibly, 
at times, attempt to opj^ress them ; but they relied on it 
that the Parliament, on application, would always give 
redress. They remembered, with gratitude, a strong in 
stance of this, when a bill was brought into Parliament, 
with a clause to make royal instructions laws in the colo- 
nies, which the House of Commons would not pass, and it 
was thrown out. 

41. Q. And have they not still the same respect for 
Parliament ? 

A. No ; it is greatly lessened. 

42. Q. To what cause is that owing ? 

A. To a concurrence of causes : the restraints lately laid 
on their trade, by which the bringing of foreign gold and 
silver into the colonies was prevented ; the prohibition 
of making paper money among themselves, and then de- 
manding a new and heavy tax by stamps, taking away, 
at the same time, trials by juries, and refusing to receive 
and hear their humble petitions. 
i.—bb 



418 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Franklin 

43. Q. Don't you think they would submit to the 
Stamp Act, if it was modified, the obnoxious parts taken 
out, and the duty reduced to some particulars of small 
moment? 

A. No, they will never submit to it. . . . 

59. Q. You say the colonies have always submitted to 
external taxes, and object to the right of Parliament only 
in laying internal taxes: now can you show that there is 
any kind of difference between the two taxes to the colony 
on which they may be laid ? 

A. I think the difference is very great. An external 
tax is a duty laid on commodities imported ; that duty is 
added to the fii-st cost and other charges on the com- 
modity, and, when it is offered to sale, makes a part of 
the price. If the people do not like it at that price, they 
refuse it ; they are not obliged to pay it. But an internal 
tax is forced from the people without their consent, if not 
laid by their own representatives. The Stamp Act says, 
we shall have no commerce, make no exchange of property 
with each other, neither purchase, nor grant, nor recover 
debts, we shall neither marry nor make our wills, unless 
we pay such and such sums; and thus it is intended to 
extort our mone}^ from us, or ruin us by the consequences 
of refusing to pay it. 

60. Q. But supposing the extei'nal tax or dutj^ to be 
laid on the necessaries of life, imported into your colony, 
will not that be the same thing in its effects as an internal 
tax? 

A. I do not know a single article imported into the 
northern colonies, but what they can either do without, 
or make themselves. 

61. Q. Don't you think cloth from England absolutely 
necessary to them ? 

A. No, by no means absolutely necessary ; with in- 



Franklin] A PARLIAMENTARY EXAMINATION. 419 

dustry and good management, they may very well supply 
themselves with all they want. 

62. Q. Will it not take a long time to establish that 
manufacture among them? and must they not in the 
mean while suffer greatly? 

A. I think not. They have made a surj^rising progress 
already. And I am of opinion, that before their old 
clothes are worn out, they will have new ones of their 
own making. . . . 

82. Q. Can anything less than a military force carry 
the Stamp Act into execution ? 

A. I do not see how a military force can be applied to 
that purpose. 

83. Q. Why may it not ? 

A. Suppose a military force sent into America, they will 
find nobody in arms ; what are they then to do ? They 
cannot force a man to take stamps who chooses to do 
without them. They will not find a rebellion ; they may 
indeed make one. 

84. Q. If the act is not repealed, what do you think 
will be the consequences? 

A. A total loss of the respect and affection the people of 
America bear to this country, and of all the commerce 
that depends on that respect and affection. 

85. Q. How can the commerce be affected ? 

A. You will find, that if the act is not repealed, they 
will take a veiy little of your manufactures in a short time. 

86. Q. Is it in their power to do without them ? 
A. I think they may very well do without them. 

87. Q. Is it their interest not to take them? 

A. The goods they take from Britain are either neces- 
saries, mere conveniences, or superfluities. The first, as 
cloth, etc., with a little industry they can make at home; 
the second they can do without, till they are able to pro- 



420 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Franklin 

vide them among themselves ; and the last, which are 
much the greatest part, thoy will strike off immediately. 
They are mere articles of fashion, purchased and consumed 
because the fashion in a respected country ; but will now 
be detested and rejected. 

[Here follow a series of questions relating to the operation of the 
post-office, the duties on tobacco and sugar, the condition of the 
American people, etc.] 

121. Q. If the act should be repealed, and the legisla- 
ture should show its resentment to the opposers of the 
Stamp Act, would the colonies acquiesce in the authority 
of the legislature? What is your opinion they would do? 

A. I don't doubt at all, that if the legislature repeal the 
Stamp Act, the colonies will acquiesce in the authority. 

122. Q. But if the legislature should think fit to ascer- 
tain its right to lay taxes, by any act laying a small tax, 
contrary to their opinion, would they submit to pay the 
tax ? 

A. The proceedings of the people in America have been 
considered too much together. The proceedings of the 
Assemblies have been very different from those of the 
mobs, and should be distinguished, as having no connec- 
tion with each other. The Assemblies have only peace- 
ably resolved what they take to be their rights; they have 
taken no measures for opposition by foi'ce, they have not 
built a fort, raised a man, or provided a grain of ammu- 
nition, in order to such opposition. The ringleaders of 
riots, they think, ought to be punished ; they would pun- 
ish them themselves, if they could. Every sober, sensible 
man would wish to see rioters punished, as, otherwise, 
peaceable people have no security of person or estate ; 
but as to an internal tax, how small soever, laid by the 
legislature here on the people there, while they have no 



Franklin] A PARLIAMENTARY EXAMINATION. 421 

representatives in this legislature, I think it will never be 
submitted to ; they will oppose it to the last ; the}' do not 
consider it as at all necessary for you to raise money on 
them by your taxes; because they are, and always have 
been, ready to raise money b}' taxes among themselves, 
and to grant large sums, equal to their abilities, upon 
requisition from the crown. 

[Franklin proceeded to express the opinion that the late war had 
been conducted by England for her own interests, and that it was not, 
in a proper sense, a war fur the good of the colonies.] 

127. Q. Is it not necessar}^ to send troops to America 
to defend the Americans against the Indians? 

A. '^o. by no means; it never was necessary. They 
defended themselves when they were but a handful, and 
the Indians inueh more numerous. They continually 
gained ground, and have driven the Indians over the 
mountains, without any troops sent to their assistance 
from this countr3^ And can it be thought necessary now 
to send troops for their defence. from those diminished 
Indian tribes, when the colonies have become so populous 
and so strong? There is not the least occasion for it; 
the\' are very able to defend themselves. . . . 

132. Q. If the Stamp Act should be repealed, and an 
act should pass, ordering the Assemblies of the colonies to 
indeninif}' the sufferers by the I'iots, would they obey it? 

A. That is a question I cannot answer. 

133. Q. Suppose the King should require the colonies 
to grant a revenue, and the Parliament should be against 
their doing it, do they think the}' can grant a revenue to 
the King, without the consent of the Parliament of Great 
Britain ? 

A. That is a deep qiiestion. As to my own opinion, I 
should think myself at libert}' to do it, and should do it, 
if I liked the occasion. . . . 
T. 36 



422 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Franklin 

135. Q. If the act should pass requiring the American 
Assemblies to make compensation to the suiferers, and 
they should disobey it, and then the Parliament should, by 
another act, la}' an internal tax, would they then obey it? 

A. The people will pay no internal tax ; and I think an 
act to oblige the Assembhes to make compensation is un- 
necessary; for I am of opinion that as soon as the present 
neats are abated they will take the matter into considera- 
tion, and, if it is right to be done, they will do it of them- 
selves. . . . 

152. Q. Don't you know that there is in the Pennsyl- 
vania charter an express reservation of the right of Parlia- 
ment to lay taxes there ? 

A. I know there is a clause in the charter by which the 
King grants that he will levy no taxes on the inhabitants, 
unless it be with the consent of the Assembly, or by act 
of Parliament. 

153. Q. IIow, then, could the Assembly of Pennsylvania 
assert that laying a tax. on them by the Stamp Act was an 
infringement of their rights ? 

A. They understand it thus; by the same charter, and 
otherwise, they are entitled to all the privileges and liber- 
ties of Englishmen ; they find in the Great Charter.'', and 
the Petition and Declaration of Eights, that one of the 
privileges of English subjects is that they are not to be 
taxed but by their common consent ; they have therefore 
relied upon it, from the first settlement of the province, 
that the Parliament never would, nor could, by color of 
that clause in the charter, assume a right of taxing them, 
till it had qualified itself to exercise such right, b}?^ admit- 
ting representatives from the people to be taxed, who 
ought to make a part of that common consent. 

154. Q. Are there any words in the charter that justify 
that construction ? 



FkanklIxv] a parliamentary EXAMINATION. 423 

A. "The common rights of Englishmen," as declared 
by Magna Charta, and the Petition of Eight, all justify 

it. . . . 

166. Q. If the Stamp Act should be repealed, would it 
induce the Assemblies of America to acknowledge the 
rights of Parliament to tax them, and would they erase 
iheir resolutions? 

A. No, never. 

167. Q. Are there no means of obliging them to erase 
those resolutions? 

A. None that I know of; they will never do it, unless 
compelled by force of arms. 

168. Q. Is there a power on earth that can force them 
to erase them ? 

A. No power, how great soever, can force men to change 
their opinions. 

169. Q. Do they consider the post-office as a tax, or as 
a regulation? 

A. Not as a tax, but as a regulation and conveniency ; 
every Assembly encouraged it, and supported it in its 
infancy, by grants of money, which they would not other- 
wise have done; and the people have always paid the 
postage. . . . 

173. Q. What used to be the pride of the Americans? 
A. To indulge in the fashions and manufactures of 

Great Britain. 

174. Q. What is now their pride? 

A. To wear their old clothes over again till they can 
make new ones. 



424 AMERICAN HISTORY. [LoBOE 

THE GROWTH OF DISCONTENT. 

HENRY C. LODGE. 

[One important result of the dissensions between America and Eng- 
land, and of the revolutionary sentiment which was rapidly extending, 
was the growth of a powerful school of oratory, the necessary outcome 
of political agitation. Numbers of glowing orators appeared, whose 
eloquent appeals did much towards spreading the flame of discontent 
and sustaining the people in their ardent resistance to the tyranny of 
the British Parliament. The most important of these political leaders 
and orators were natives of Virginia, Massachusetts, and South Caro- 
lina. In Virginia the brilliant declamations of Patrick Henry were 
firebrands of revolution. Other sliilled and accomplished orators were 
Edmund Pendleton, Eichard Bland, George Wythe, Peyton Kandolph, 
and Eichard Henry Lee. Two other Virginians of extraordinary abili- 
ties we may here name, George Washington, already the greatest sol- 
dier in America, and Thomas Jefferson, a man of remarkable powers, 
all of which were steadily exerted in the cause of American liberty. 

To the skill and ardor of Otis and Thacher, as defenders of the 
rights of their countrymen, we have already adverted. Not less ardent 
and fearless was Samuel Adams, one of the greatest of ante-Eevolu- 
tionary Americans. Other prominent leaders in Massachusetts wece 
John Hancock, Thomas Gushing, and James Bowdoin, merchants ; 
Samuel Cooper, a clergyman ; Josiah Quincy and Eobert Treat Paine, 
lawyers ; and John Winthrop, a Harvard professor. The notable ora- 
tors of South Carolina were John Eutledge, whose powers rivalled 
those of Patrick Henry ; Christopher Gadsden, a fearless republican; 
Henry Laurens, David Eamsay, and Edward Eutledge, brother of John, 
and whose eloquence was as graceful as his brother's was impetuous. 
We might add to these names those of men of equal ability, daring, 
and patriotism in the other provinces, but it will suffice here to name 
Benjamin Franklin of Pennsylvania, to whose services in the cause of 
liberty we have already given some attention, and who, mentally, was 
one of the greatest men that the world has ever produced. To his 
name may be added that of Thomas Paine, an advocate of liberty of 
remarkable brilliance of style and uncompromising courage in pub- 
lishins: his sentiments. Of the stirrins; events which followed the re- 



Lodge] THE GROWTH OF DISCONTENT. 425 

peal of the Stamp Act we give a brief but lucid review from Lodge's 
" Short History of the English Colonies in America."] 

The sound of the rejoicings called foi'th by the repeal 
of the Stamp Act had hardly died away before it was seen 
how little had really been gained beyond immediate and 
temporary relief. The Stamp Act was gone, but the 
Declaratory Act, and the Sugar Act, and the Mutiny Act, 
requiring quarters to be provided for English troops, and 
recently extended to the colonies, remained unmodified 
and unchanged. The Eockiugham ministry was dissolved ; 
Pitt came again to the helm, and was made the Earl of 
Chatham. The clouds of his strange illness gathered 
about the prime minister, and the conduct of affairs fell 
into the hands of Charles Townshend, a believer in the 
Stamp Act, and with no faith in Pitt's distinction between 
internal and external taxation. He was determined to 
pursue the policy of Grenville, and laid his plans to quar- 
ter garrisons in the large towns of America and have 
them supported by the colonial Assemblies, and to exact 
a revenue from the colonies. The trouble had, indeed 
already begun in New York, where the Assembl}^, which 
had passed a limited act for the supply of two regiments 
in December, 1766, refused to provide for quartering 
troops, and stood firm through a long controversy with 
Sir Henry Moore. In the following spring, Parliament, 
under the lead of Townshend, suspended the legislative 
powers of I^ew York, as a punishment for their disobedi- 
ence. This was a warning which could not be mistaken. 
In the other colonies, even when requisitions were com- 
plied with, there was careful evasion of obedience to the 
terms of the act, and sympathy with New York spread 
far and wide, carrying with it deep disquiet and indigna- 
tion. Not content with beginning to enforce the Mutiny 
Act, Townshend carried measures to impose port duties 

3a* 



426 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lodge 

on wine, oil, and fruit from Spain and Portugal, ai;d on 
glass, paper, lead, colors, and tea. The revenue thus raised 
was to be used for the payment of the crown officers, and 
for the establishment of a civil list. This was a blow at 
the most vital rights of the colonies, for it took from them 
the control of their governments. The new policy, un- 
checked by the death of Townshend in the autumn of 
1767, excited the utmost apprehension in America, and 
fanned into flame the smouldering embers of the oppo- 
sition to the Stamp Act. Again non-importation agree- 
ments wei'e discussed, but without combination or effect ; 
and Massachusetts, thoroughly alarmed at the prospect of 
independent crown officers, determined on stronger meas- 
ures. The Assembly resolved to send a petition to the 
king, and letters to the statesmen of England. In the 
petition, drawn, probably, by Samuel Adams, the Assembly 
set forth the conditions of their settlement, argued against 
taxation without representation, and protested against the 
presence of a standing army, and the project of render- 
ing the judicial and executive officers independent of the 
people. They followed this action by a resolve inviting 
the other colonies to unite with them in petitions to the 
king against the new taxation. At every step Bernard and 
Hutchinson resisted the Assembly, which moved forward 
steadily, cautiously, and firmly, making no mistakes, and 
giving no openings. Bernard and the crown officers met 
the action of the Assembly by a counter-memorial, inveigh- 
ing against the freedom and independent temper of the 
colonists, and advising the immediate presence of fleets and 
armies, — supporting their requests with tales of projected 
riois, for the people had begun to be restless, although 
there was really no danger of any serious outbreak. 

Hillsborough, the new Secretarj^ of State, and the king's 
friends were indiirnant at the action of Massachusetts, and 



Lodge] THE GROWTH OF DISCONTENT. 427 

letters were sent to the other colonies denouncing the 
Massachusetts cii'cular, and to Bernard instructing him to 
order the House to rescind their resolve, and, if they re- 
fused, to dissolve them. Meantime, the excitement in- 
creased. John Hancock's sloop Liberty was seized, on the 
ground of evasion of the customs. There was a shght 
disturbance, and revenue officers, in pretended fear of their 
lives, took refuge on the Romney man-of-war, while the 
town and the governor quarrelled about the affair. When 
the general court met, strengthened by the sympathy of 
Connecticut and New Jersey, and by the letter of Virginia, 
where their principles had been sustained by resolutions 
of the Burgesses, Hillsborough's letter was presented. 
The House, by an overwhelming vote, refused to rescind ; 
the court was dissolved, and Massachusetts was left with- 
out a legislature. Boston town meeting took into its hands 
the power which Hillsborough and Bernard sought to 
crush. They called a convention of delegates from the 
towns of the province while troops were on their way to 
Massachusetts ; and this convention came together, de- 
manded in vain a general court, passed strong resolutions 
against taxation and a standing army, and adjourned, 
while the Council refused to make provision for the ex- 
pected soldiers until the barracks were filled, and the old 
beacon was prepared as in the days of Andros. Soon after 
the convention dissolved, two regiments, presently in- 
creased to four, and artillery, landed and marched into the 
town. The Council refused quarters until the barracks 
were occujDied ; and, after camping for some time in the 
open air, the troops were finally quartered and supplied at 
the expense of the crown. No measure could possibly 
have been taken better calculated to produce civil war. 
The troops were sent to overawe, and they merely irritated 
the people. Into a peaceful town, into a province which 



428 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lodge 

had simply remonstrated and petitioned legally and prop- 
erly in defence of their rights, were suddenly thrust royal 
regiments. The strong feeling of independence in a coun- 
try where garrisons were absolutely unknown was out- 
raged, while the bad character and licentious habits of the 
soldiery incensed a rigid, austere, and sober people. At- 
tempts at military coercion and the presence of troops 
were sure to breed trouble; and, woi-se than this, they not 
only awakened the sympathy of the other colonies, but 
alarmed them for their own safety. It was outside press- 
ure and peril in its strongest form, and nothing tended 
so strongly to produce the union which alone could be 
fatal to English rule. 

In Yirginia, when the Burgesses met, resolutions were 
passed declaring again-st taxation, and asserting the right 
to trial by a jury of the vicinage, and to combination 
among the colonies. Botetourt dissolved the Assembly, 
and the Burgesses met in convention and formed a strin- 
gent non-importation agreement. Virginia carried with 
her the Southern colonies, and her example was followed 
in Delaware and Pennsylvania, and when the general 
court came together again in Massachusetts they promptly 
adopted the resolutions. Some of the troops had been 
withdrawn; but two regiments were kept on Bernard's 
request, and he and the legislature were in no good humor 
when they met at Cambridge, whither the governor ad- 
journed them. The House refused flatly to provide for 
troops, or to give a salary for the year to Bernard, who 
was recalled, and who soon after, having prorogued the 
refractory Assembly, departed from Boston, amid the 
noisy rejoicings of the populace, leaving Hutchinson to 
rule in his stead. While Massachusetts and Virginia were 
thus coming together and preparing the American Union, 
the ministry in England, halting and undecided, rather 



Lodge] THE GROWTH OF DISCONTENT. 429 

frightened at the results of their energetic policy, and 
desperately embroiled with Wilkes, decided to recede. 
They sent a circular to the colonies, promising to lay no 
more taxes, and to repeal the duties on glass, paper, and 
colors, retaining only that on tea. Their action was that 
of well-meaning, narrow, and weak men. They should 
either then and there have enforced their policy at the 
point of the bayonet, or they should have fully and frankly 
given way on every point. To save their pride, maintain 
their doctrines, and please the king, they retained one 
paltry tax, yielding perhaps three hundred pounds a year, 
but which carried the vital principle with it as surely and 
clearly as revenue involving millions. The course of the 
ministry had slowly brought the conflict to the point at 
which complete victory on one side or the other was alone 
possible. The colonies were fully alive to the situation, 
and saw that while one tax remained nothing had been 
gained. The non-importation agreements spread every- 
where, and w^ere strongly enforced, and all society was 
drawn into a refusal to use tea. Conflicts with the rev- 
enue oflicers in Rhode Island and elsewhere grew tnore 
and more frequent, and the relations of the people with 
the soldiery in New York and Boston more and more 
strained. In ISTew York there were violent aff'rays between 
the soldiers and the people over the erection of the libert}-- 
pole, and there was fighting in the streets. These out- 
breaks heightened the feeling in Boston, where the soldiers 
were taunted and insulted, and where recurring fights 
between populace and red-coats showed that a crisis was 
at hand. On the 3d of March there was an ugly brawl, 
and on the evening of the 5th there was another fi'ay, and 
trouble with the sentry. Before quiet was restored there 
was renewed fighting, and a crowd gathered round the 
sentry in King Street. Alarmed and angry, the man 



430 AMERICA y HISTORY. [Lodge 

called out the guard ; the mob rapidly increased ; insults 
"were followed by missiles ; one soldier discharged his gun ; 
there was a scattering fire from the troops, and three of 
the citizens were killed and two mortally wounded. Blood 
had been shed, and it looked as if civil war had begun. 
The regiments were turned out. the people poured into 
the streets ; it was a mere chance that the American Eev- 
olution was not then to open. But Hutchinson appeared 
in the balcony of the State-House, promised an investiga- 
tion, and besought peace. The people dispersed, and war 
was for the moment averted ; but nothing could efface the 
memory of this affray. Eegular troops had fired upon 
the citizens, human life had been sacrificed, and the ex- 
aggerated title of the '• Boston Massacre" showed the im- 
portance attached to this event, which served for years to 
keep alive and develop resistance to England. 

The morning after the massacre the select-men waited 
on Hutchinson and urged the removal of the troops. At 
eleven the town meeting came together, and chose a com- 
mittee, with Samuel Adams at its head, to wait upon the 
governor and demand the withdrawal of the troops. 
Hutchinson wished to delay and postpone. He offered to 
have the Twenty-Xinth Eegiment. which had fired on the 
people, removed to the Castle, and the other put under 
proper restraint. The committee went back through 
thronged streets, and made its report, which was pro- 
nounced unsatisfactory, and a new committee, again headed 
bv Adams, went back to the governor. The interview 
which followed in the council-chamber, as the daylight 
slowly faded, was one of the great dramatic scenes of the 
American Eevolution. In that moment Samuel Adams 
was pre-eminent, and all the greatness and force of his 
mind and character concentrated to raise him up as the 
great tribune of the people. The incarnation of right and 



Grahame] the tea tax AND BOSTON PORT BILL. 43 1 

justice, the true champion of the people, he stood before 
the fit representative of a weak, vacillating, proud, and 
stupid ministry, and made the representative quail before 
him. " If you can remove one, you can remove both," he 
said to Hutchinson; "there are three thousand peopie in 
yonder town meeting ; the country is rising ; night is fall- 
ing ; and we must have an answer." Hutchinson hesitated 
a moment, trembled, and gave way. Before a week elapsed, 
all the troops were withdrawn ; and meantime they had 
watched the funerals of their victims, seen their compan- 
ions arrested for murdei*, beheld a town meeting called to 
hurry their departure, and had been kept under strict 
guard by the militia of the town they went forth to gar- 
rison. Staying and going were alike full of humiliation 
and defeat, it was a great triumph ; and as the news of 
the events at Boston spread, a strong sense of relief filled 
the colonies. 



THE TEA TAX AND THE BOSTON PORT BILL. 

JAMES GRAHAME. 

[The state of irritation into which America had heen thrown by the 
injudicious measures of the British Parliament was not allayed by it3 
subsequent action. Before proceeding with the record of these events, 
reference may be made to an outbreak which at this time occurred 
in North Carolina, not directly due to English action, yet arising 
from the corruption and inefficiency of functionaries of the British 
government. Abuses in the collection of exorbitant fees by public 
officers, and in permitting the sheriffs and tax-collectors to delay the 
payment of public moneys, produced an association of the poorer colo- 
nists, who claimed that they were being overtaxed for the support 
of dishonest officers, and who assumed the title of Regulators. Other 
events added to their discontent, and thev broke out into wild out- 



432 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gkahame 

rages, assembling in 1771 to the number of two thousand, and de- 
claring their purpose to abolish coui-ts of justice, exterminate lawyers 
and public officers, and overturn the provincial government in favor 
of some mad scheme of democracy devised by their foolish or knavish 
leaders. The respectable part of the community rose in opposition to 
these insurgents, and in a battle at Almansee, on May 16, the Regu- 
lators were routed, three hundred of them being left dead on the field. 
Others were condemned and executed for high treason, and peace was 
restored to the province. Events more directly connected with the 
struggle between the colonies and Great Britain rapidly succeeded in 
the other provinces, a statement of the more important of which we 
select from Grahame's " Colonial History of the United States."] 

An act of violence committed by the colonists of Rhode 
Island, though less memorable in respect of its intrinsic 
importance than the insurrection of the Regulators in 
North Carolina, excited more general attention from its 
significance as an indication of the height to which the 
general current of American sentiment was rising. The 
commander of the Gaspee, an armed British schooner 
stationed at Providence, had exerted much activity in 
8Uf)porting the trade laws and punishing the increasing 
contraband traflSc of the Americans, and had provoked 
additional resentment by firing at the Providence packets 
in order to compel them to salute his flag by lowering 
theirs as they passed his vessel, and by chasing them even 
into the docks in. case of refusal. The master of a packet 
conveying passengers to Providence (June 9, 1772), which 
was fired At and chas-ed by the Gaspee for neglecting to 
pay the requisite tribute of respect, took advantage of the 
state of the tide (it being almost high water) to stand in 
so closely to the shore that the Gaspee in the pursuit 
might be exposed to run agi'ound. The artifice succeeded ; 
the Gaspee presently stuck fast, and the packet proceeded 
in triumph to Providence, where a strong sensation was 
excited by the tidings of the occurrence, and a project was 



Grahame] the tea tax AND BOSTON PORT BILL. 433 

hastily formed to improve the blow and destroy the ob- 
noxious vessel. Brown, an eminent merchant, and Whip- 
ple, a ship-master, took the lead in this bold adventure, 
and easily collected a sufficient band of armed and resolute 
men, with whom they embarked in whale-boats to attack 
the British ship of war. At two o'clock the next morning 
they boarded the Gaspee so suddenly and in such num- 
bers that her crew were instantly overpowered, without 
hurt to any one except her commanding officer, who was 
wounded. The captors, having despatched a part of their 
number to convey him, together with his private effects 
and his crew, ashore, set fire to the Gaspee and destroj^ed 
her, with all her stores. The issue of this daring act of 
war against the naval force of the king was as remarkable 
as the enterprise itself [A large reward was offered for 
information, and commissioners appointed to try the of- 
fenders.] But no trial took place. Nobody came forward 
to claim the proffered reward ; . . . and in the commence- 
ment of the following year the commissioners reported to 
the British ministry their inability, notwithstanding the 
most diligent inquisition, to procure evidence or informa- 
tion against a single individual. 

[In Massachusetts a violent enmity had arisen between Hutchin 
son, the governor, and the majority of the Assembly, which produced 
several controversies. Among the most notable of these was the effort 
of the Assembly to abolish the slave-trade. In 1712 the importation 
of slaves into Massachusetts had been forbidden, but her merchants 
were not restrained from conveying slaves to other provinces. No 
fewer than four bills prohibiting traffic in negroes were, during the ad- 
ministrations of Governors Bernard and Hutchinson, passed by the 
Assembly, but they were all negatived by the governors.] 

The British government, meanwhile, having rashly de- 
termined to enforce the Tea-duty Act, of which the most 
considerable effect hitherto was a vast importation of 



434 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Grahame 

smuggled tea into America by the French, the Dutch, the 
Danes, and the Swedes, attempted to compass by pohcy 
what constraint and authoi-ity had proved insufficient to 
accomplish. The measures of the Americans had already 
occasioned such diminution of exports from Britain that 
the warehouses of the English East India Company con- 
tained above seventeen millions of pounds of tea, for which 
it was difficult to procure a mai'ket. The unwillingness 
of the Compan}^ to lose their commercial profits, and of 
the ministry to forego the expected revenue from the sale 
of tea in America, induced a compromise for their mutual 
advantage. A high duty was imposed hitherto on the ex- 
portation of tea from England ; but the East India Com- 
pany were now authorized by act of Parliament to expoi't 
their tea free of duty to all places whatever (May, 1773). 
By this contrivance it was expected that tea, though 
loaded with an exceptionable tax on its importation into 
America, would yet readily obtain purchasers among the 
Americans ; as the vendors, relieved of the British export 
duty, could afford to sell it to them even cheaper than 
before it was made a source of American revenue. 

The crisis now drew near when the Americans were 
to decide whether they would submit to be taxed by the 
British Parliament, or practically support their own princi- 
ples and brave the most perilous consequences of their in- 
flexibility. One common sentiment was awakened through- 
out the whole continent by the tidings of the ministerial 
device, which was universally reprobated as an attempt, 
at once injurious and insulting, to bribe the Americans 
to surrender their rights and bend their own necks to 
the yoke of arbitrary power. A violent ferment ai"ose; 
the corresponding committees and political clubs ex- 
erted their utmost activity to rouse and unite the people ; 
and it was generally declared that, as every citizen owed 



Grahame] the tea tax AND BOSTON PORT BILL. 435 

to his country the duty at least of refraining from being 
accessory to her subjugation, every man who countenanced 
the present measure of the British government should be 
deemed an enemy of America. . , . 

The East India Company, confident of finding a market 
for their tea, reduced as it was now in price, freighted 
several ships to America with this commodity, and ap- 
pointed consignees to receive and dispose of it. Some 
cargoes were sent to New York, some to Philadelphia, some 
to Charleston, the metropolis of South Carolina, and some 
to Eoston. The inhabitants of New York and Philadelphia 
prevailed with the consignees to disclaim their functions, 
and forced the ships to return with their cargoes to London. 
The inhabitants of Charleston unladed the tea, and de- 
posited it in public cellars, where it was locked up from 
use and finally perished. At Boston, the consignees, who 
were the near kinsmen of Governor Hutchinson, at first 
refused to renounce their appointments (November 5) ; and 
the vessels containing the tea lay for some time in the 
harbor, watched by a strong guard of the citizens, who, 
from a numerous town meeting, despatched peremptory 
commands to the ship-masters not to land their obnoxious 
cargoes. . . . [The consignees] proposed then to the people 
that the tea should be landed, and preserved in some public 
store or magazine ; but this compromise was indignantly 
rejected. At length the popular rage broke through every 
restraint of order and decency. From the symptoms of 
its dangerous fervor the consignees fled in dismay to the 
Castle ; while an assemblage of men, dressed and painted 
like Mohawk Indians, boarded the vessels and threw the 
tea into the ocean (December 16). 

It was remarked with some surprise that during the 
whole of this transaction the civil and mihtary force of 
government, including the garrison of Castle William and 



436 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Grahame 

several ships of war in the harbor, remained completely 
inactive. The governor, indeed, issued a proclamation for- 
bidding the people to assemble in factious meetings. But 
the council, when their protection was implored by the 
consignees, refused to intei-fere at all in the matter; and 
though, after the outrage was committed, they condemned 
its perpetration and invoked legal vengeance upon all who 
had been engaged in it, the futility of this demonstration 
was obvious to every eye. To procure legal proof that 
would implicate even a single individual was notoriously 
impossible. 

[Another source of popular irritation was the proceeding of the 
ministry against Franklin. He had obtained and made public some 
letters of Hutchinson and others, misrepresenting the occurrences in 
America and pressing the ministry to support their schemes by mili- 
tary power. The Massachusetts Assembly now petitioned the king 
to remove these obnoxious persons from office. This was refused, and 
severe measures were taken against Franklin.] 

On the following day [after the rejection of the petition] 
Franklin was dismissed by the British government from 
the office of postmaster-general of America. These pro- 
ceedings, and especially the elaborate malignity of insult 
heaped [during the discussion] upon a man whom they so 
highly admired and respected, sank deeply into the minds 
of the Americans. Another act of British power, that 
was directed with the most childish absurdity against the 
scientific repute of Franklin, awakened the liveliest de- 
rision and disdain in America. For the king, shortly after, 
transported by the blindest abhorrence of the American 
philosopher, for whom he bad once professed esteem, actu- 
ally caused the electrical conductors invented by Franklin 
to be removed from the palace of Buckingham House and 
replaced by instruments of far less skilful construction and 
efficient capacity. 



Grahame] the tea tax AND BOSTON PORT BILL. 437 

[Hutchinson was soon after recalled to England, ostensibly to inform 
the ministers regarding the state of the colonies.] 

Along with Tryon, who was afterwards recalled from 
New York, and Carleton, the governor of Canada, he was 
desired by the cabinet to declare his opinion whether the 
Americans, in the last extremity, would venture to resist 
the arms of Britain, Hutchinson confidentlj' predicted 
that they would either not fight at all. or at most offer no 
farther opposition than what a few troops could easilj- 
quell. Carleton protested that America might certainly 
be conquered, but that a considerable army would be neces- 
earj' for this purpose, and that, for himself, he would not 
venture to niarch against New York or Boston with a 
smaller force than ten thousand men. Tryon declared 
that Britain would require lai'ge armies and long efforts 
to bring America to her feet ; that her power was equal 
to anything, but that all her power must be exerted in 
order to put the monster in chains. The representations of 
Hutchinson were the most congenial to the sentiments 
and the temper of the British government; and, unfortu- 
nately for England, they were corroborated by the kin- 
dred folly and ignorance of many British statesmen and 
officers. " The Americans are a degenei*ate race of Euro- 
peans; they have nothing of the soldier in them," was 
the customarj^ language of men who were destined by 
their own defeats to illustrate the valor which they depre- 
ciated, and who learned too late to consider the Americans 
as a regenerated race of Europeans, in whom the energy 
of freemen more than supplied the mechanical expertness 
of severely-disciplined slaves. General Clarke . . . de- 
clared in a company of learned men at London, and in 
the hearing of Dr. Franklin, that with a thousand British 
grenadiers he would undertake to march from one end of 
America to another. . . . Another general officer asserted 

37* 



438 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Graham e 

in the House of Commons that "T/ie Yankees (a foolish 
nickname which now began to be applied to the Ameri- 
cans) never felt bold.'" 

The speeches of other military officers in Parliament, and 
of the prime minister, Lord North, conveyed ideas equall}^ 
calculated to delude their countrymen and to inflame by 
contumely all the rage and courage which injustice and 
injury had already kindled in the Americans. ^^ Believe 
me, my lords," said the Earl of Sandwich, First Lord of 
the Admiralty, in the House of Peers, " the first sound of 
a cannon wull send the Americans a-runniug as fast as 
their feet can carry them." Unfortunately for his country, 
he was believed. 

[During the period here indicated the population of America was 
rapidly increasing. We have few statistics, but these are very sugges- 
tive. Seventeen thousand three hundred and fifty emigrants reached 
America from the north of Ireland alone in 1771 and 1772. In the 
fii-st fortnight of August, 1773, three thousand five hundred emigrants 
ti-om Ireland landed at Philadelphia. Many others came from Scot- 
land, Holland, Germany, and elsewhere. The countr}- was fast filling 
up with people who had been oppressed at home and who wei-e in the 
proper temper to strike for liberty abroad. 

With the infatuation which had all along marked the acts of Par- 
liament and the ministry, new measures of coercion were now adopted, 
calculated to increase the irritation of the colonists. Exasperated by 
the opposition to the sale of tea in America, and in particular by its 
destruction at Boston, the ministry determined on more stringent 
measures, and selected this town as the culprit to be disciplined. A 
bill was hastily passed, suspending the trade and closing the harbor of 
Boston. It was followed by another bill destroying the representative 
government of Massachusetts, by declaring that the provincial council 
should be appointed by the crown, that the royal governor should ap- 
point and remove all important executive officers, and that no town 
meeting should be held without written permission from the governor. 

Other stringent measures were passed, despite the warning protest 
of an old member of the House of Commons : "If there ever was a 
nation running headlong to its ruin, it is this." The tidings of the 



Grahame] the tea tax AND BOSTON PORT BILL. 439 

passage of these bills produced universal indignation in America. 
Philadelphia made a liberal contribution in aid of the poorer inhabi- 
tants of Boston who might be injured by the operation of the Port 
Bill. In Virginia a day of fasting and prayer was ordered, and Jef- 
ferson published an indignant protest. Strong feeling was exhibited 
in all the other provinces.] 

On the day when the operation of the Boston Port Bill 
was appointed to commence (June 1, 1774) all the com- 
mercial business of the capital of Massachusetts was con- 
cluded at noon, and the harbor of this flourishing town 
was closed, till the gathering storm of the Eevolution 
was to reopen it. At WilHamsburg, in Virginia, the day 
was devoutly consecrated to the religious exercises recom- 
mended by the Assembly. At Philadelphia it was solem- 
nized by a great majority of the population with every 
testimonial of public gi'ief ; all the inhabitants, except the 
Quakers, shut uj) their houses ; and after divine service a 
deep and ominous stillness reigned in the city. In other 
parts of America it was also observed as a day of mourn- 
ing; and the sentiments thus widely awakened were kept 
alive and exasperated by the distress to which the inhabi- 
tants of Boston were reduced by the continued operation 
of the Port Bill, and by the fortitude with which they 
endured it. The rents of the landholders in and around 
Boston now ceased or were greatly diminished ; all the 
wealth vested in warehouses and wharves was rendered 
unproductive ; from the merchants was wrested the com- 
merce they had reared, and the means alike of providing 
for their families and paying their debts; the artificers 
employed in the numerous crafts nourished by an exten- 
sive commerce shared the general hardship ; and a great 
majority of that class of the community who earned daily 
bread by their dail}^ labor were deprived of the means of 
support. But, animated still by that enduring and daunt- 



440 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Grahame 

less sj)irit of freedom which had been the parent principle 
of the New England communities, the inhabitants of Bos- 
ton sustained the presence of this calamity with inflexible 
fortitude. Their virtue was cheered by the sympathy, 
and their sufferings were mitigated by the generosity, of 
the sister colonies. In all the American States contribu- 
tions were made for their relief. Corporate bodies, town 
meetings, and provincial conventions, from all quarters, 
transmitted to them letters and addresses, apj)lauding their 
conduct, and exhorting them to perseverance. 

[The royal garrison of Boston was now augmented, and its fortifica- 
tions strengthened and increased, thus adding to the irritation of the 
people. At the suggestion of the Massachusetts Assembly, a Congress 
of the provinces was called. This Congress, embracing members from 
all the colonies except Georgia, met at Philadelphia on September 5, 
1774. Of the debates of this body, which continued in session eight 
weeks, no authentic report exists, but it published a Declaration of the 
Eights of America, with many other acts in which a determined spirit 
of resistance to tyranny was indicated. Before dissolving, it was de- 
creed to meet again on May 10, 1775, if no redress of American griev- 
ances was granted. A cargo of tea about this time entered the harbor 
of Annapolis, Maryland, but the ship-master became so alarmed by 
the popular excitement that he asked the advice of an able lawyer, 
Charles Carroll of Carrollton, as to what he should do. Carroll ad- 
vised him to burn the vessel and cargo. This advice was taken. 
" The sails were set, the colors displayed, and the vessel burned amidst 
the acclamations of the multitude." 

In Massachusetts, General Gage had called a meeting of the Assem- 
\Aj. But, alarmed by the temper of the people, he issued a proclama- 
tion suspending its meeting. In defiance of his power the Assembly 
met, elected John Hancock its president, and proceeded to the bold 
and extreme measure of calling out the militia for the defence of the 
province. A portion of them were to be ready to meet at a minute's 
warning, and generals were appointed to command these minute-men, 
and the militia at large.] 

And now all America was aroused by expectation of 



Grahame] the tea tax AND BOSTON PORT BILL. 441 

awful conflict and mighty change. Now England, upon 
which the first violence of the storm seemed likely to 
descend, was agitated by rumors and alarms, of which the 
imjDort and the influence strikingly portrayed the senti- 
ments and temper of the people. Reports that Gage had 
commanded his troops to attack the Massachusetts militia, 
or to fire upon the town of Boston, were swallowed with 
the avidity of rage and hatred, and instantly covered the 
highways with thousands of armed men, mustering in hot 
haste, and eager to rush forward to death or revenge. 
Everything betokened the explosion of a tempest ; and 
some partial gusts announced its near approach, and proved 
the harbingers of its ^nvj. In the close of the year there 
reached America a proclamation issued by the king, pro- 
hibiting the exportation of military stores from Great 
Britain. The inhabitants of Ehode Island no sooner i-e- 
ceived intelligence of this mandate than they removed 
from the public batter}- about forty pieces of cannon ; and 
the Assembly of the province gave orders for procuring 
arms and martial stores, and for the immediate equipment 
of a martial force. In IS'ew Hampshire, a band of four 
hundred men, suddenly assembling in arms, and conducted 
by John Sullivan, an eminent lawyer and a man of great 
ambition and intrepidity, gained possession by surprise of 
the castle of Portsmouth, and confined the royal garrison 
till the powder-magazine was ransacked and its contents 
carried away. 

[These violent demonstrations provoked new measures of oppression 
in Parliament. Lord Chatham, indeed, after seeking the counsel of 
Benjamin Franklin, introduced a bill calculated to remove the causes 
of disaffection in America. But this bill was rejected, and one in- 
troduced by Lord North was passed, ■jvhich virtually extended the 
measures of the Boston Port Bill to all New England. As it soon 
appeared that the other provinces supported New England, the provis- 
ions of the bill to restrain commerce were extended to them all, with 



442 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Graham k 

the exception of New York, Delaware, and North Carolina. But this 
exemption failed to produce its designed effect, since the exempted 
colonies at once declared their intention to accept the restraints imposed 
on their neighbors.] 

The example of Massachusetts in preparing for defence 
was followed by the other provinces ; and warlike counsels 
were boldly broached in the provincial Assemblies and 
Congresses. When some members of the Virginia Assem- 
bly urged the postponement of those preparations, remind- 
ing their colleagues of the power of Britain and the com- 
parative weakness of America, and insisting that it Avould 
be time enough to fly to arms when every well-founded 
hope of peace had entirely vanished, Patrick Henry, with 
vehement and victorious eloquence, contended that that time 
had already come. "It is natural," said he, "to man to in- 
dulge in the illusions of hope. We are prone to shut our 
e3'es against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that 
enchantress till she transforms us into beasts. There is no 
longer any room for hope. We must fight. I repeat it, sir, 
we must fight. An appeal to arms and to the God of hosts 
is all that is left us. They tell us that we are weak^ and 
unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But 
when shall we be stronger ? Will it be when our supineness 
shall have enabled our enemies to bind us hand and foot? 
Sir, we are not weak, if we make use of those means 
which the God of nature has placed in our power. Three 
millions of people armed in the holy cause of liberty, and 
in such a country as ours, are invincible by any force which 
our enemy can send against us. 'Sov shall we fight our 
battles alone. That God who presides over the destinies 
of nations will raise up friends to aid us. The battle is 
not to the strong alone, but to the vigilant, the active, the 
brave. Besides, we have no longer a choice. If we were 
base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from 



Grahame] the tea tax AND BOSTON PORT BILL. 443 

the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and 
slavery. Our chains are forged ; their clanking may be 
heard upon the plains of Boston. The war is inevitable 
— and let it come ! Gentlemen may cry, ' Peace ! Peace !' 
— but there is no peace. The war is actually begun. The 
next gale which sweejDS from the north will bring to our 
ears the clash of resounding arms." 

[These words proved prophetic. Arms and provisions were' being 
diligently collected in Massachusetts, in preparation for an expected 
conflict. General Gage was not unaware of nor inditferent to these 
proceedings.] 

Having leai'ned that some military stores belonging to 
the colonists were deposited in Salem, he despatched 
Colonel Leslie from Castle William, on the 26th of Feb- 
ruary, with one hundred and forty soldiers, in a transport, 
to seize them. The troops, landing at Marblehead, pro- 
ceeded to Salem ; but, not finding there the object of their 
expedition, they advanced along the road leading to Dan- 
vers, whither the stores had been removed, and reached the 
drawbridge laid across the river. Here a number of the 
country-people were assembled, and on the opposite side 
the American colonel Pickering had mustered thirty or 
forty armed men, and, having drawn up the bridge, stood 
prepared to dispute the passage of the river. Leslie com- 
manded them to lower the bridge ; but, as they peremp- 
torily refused, he was preparing to cross the river in some 
boats that were moored to the shore, when the people, 
who had gathered round him, perceiving his intention, 
sprang into the boats and scuttled them with axes. 

[As the stores were now removed, and the purpose of the British 
negatived, it was decided that Leslie might cross the river and march 
thirty paces beyond it, as a point of honor, and then return without 
attempting farther progress.] 



444 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Higginson 

At length the bridge was lowered ; and Pickering with 
his men, still facing the British troops, retired to the line 
they had measured and marked. Leslie and his soldiers, 
after advancing to the stipulated point, returned and em- 
bai'ked for Boston. Thus ended the first military enter 
prise of the Eevolutionary "War, — without effect and with- 
out bloodshed. 

[Its main effect was to add to the bitterness and to redouble the 
vigilance of the Americans in guarding their stores. The second en- 
terprise of this kind was not destined to end so harmlessly.] 



THE FIRST SHOTS OF THE REVOLUTION. 

THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON. 

[A magazine of military stores had been collected at the inland 
town of Concord, about sixteen miles from Boston. This Gage learned 
of, and determined to destroy. For this purpose he sent a force by 
night, on a secret and rapid march. Several British officers posted 
themselves on the road leading to Concord to intercept any messengers 
who might be sent out to give warning of this design. But the patriots 
of Boston were too alert to be thus checked. No sooner had indica- 
tions of the enterprise appeared than messengers were abroad, and 
the alarm was rapidly communicated by the ringing of bells and dis- 
charge of signal-guns. One citizen of Concord, Eeuben Brown by 
name, " rode a hundred miles in the space of twenty-four hours in 
order to disseminate the intelligence." The story of this expedition 
we select from Higginson's " History of the United States."] 

When France, in 1763, surrendered Canada to England, 
it suddenly opened men's eyes to a very astonishing fact. 
They discovered that British America had at once become 
a country so large as to make England seem ridiculously 
small. Even the cool-headed Dr. Franklin, writing that 



Higginson] first shots of the revolution. 445 

same 3'ear to Mary Stevenson in London, sj)oke of Eng- 
land as " that petty island, which, eompai'ed to America, 
is but a stepping-stone in a brook, scarce enough of it 
above water to keep one's shoes dry." The far-seeing 
French statesmen of the period looked at the matter in 
the same way. Choiseul, the prime minister who ceded 
Canada, claimed afterward that he had done it in order to 
destroy the British nation by creating for it a rival. This 
assertion was not made till ten years later, and may very 
likely have been an after-thought, but it was destined to 
be confirmed by the facts. . . . 

Boston in the winter of 1774-75 was a town of some 
seventeen thousand inhabitants, garrisoned by some three 
thousand British troops. It was the only place in the 
Massachusetts colony where the royal governor exercised 
any real authority, and where the laws of Parhament had 
any force. The result was that its life was paralyzed, itp 
people gloomy, and its commerce dead. The other colo- 
nies were still hoping to obtain their rights by policy or 
by legislation, by refusing to import or to consume, and 
they watched with constant solicitude for some riotous 
demonstration in Boston. On the other hand, the popular 
leaders in that town were taking the greatest pains that 
there should be no outbreak. There was risk of one when- 
ever soldiers were sent on any expedition into the country. 
One might have taken place at Marshfield in January, one 
almost happened at Salem in February, yet still it was 
postponed. No publicity was given to the patriotic mili- 
tary organizations in Boston ; as little as j^ossible was said 
about the arms and stores that were gathered in the coun- 
try-, Not a life had been lost in any popular excitement 
since the Boston Massacre in 1770. The responsibility of 
the first shot, the people were determined, must rest upon 
the royal troops. So far was this carried that it was hon- 
I. 35 



446 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hiqginson 

estly attributed by the British soldiers to cowardice alone. 
An officer, quoted by Frothingham, wrote home in No- 
vember, 1774, "As to what you hear of their taking ai^ms 
to resist the force of England, it is mere bullying, and will 
go no further than words ; whenever it comes to blows he 
that can run the fastest will think himself best off. Be- 
lieve me, any two regiments here ought to be decimated 
if they did not beat in the field the whole force of the 
Massachusetts province ; for, though the}' are numerous, 
they are but a mere mob, without order or discipline, and 
very awkward at handling their arms." 

But, whatever may have been the hope of carrying 
their point without fighting, the provincial authorities 
were steadily collecting provisions, arms, and ammunition. 
Unhappily, these essentials were hard to obtain. On April 
19, 1775, the committee of safety could only count up twelve 
field-pieces in Massachusetts; and there had been collected 
in that colony 21,549 fire-arms, 17,441 pounds of powder, 
22,191 pounds of ball, 144,699 flints, 10,108 bayonets, 
11,979 pouches, 15,000 canteens. There were also 17,000 
pounds of salt fish, 35,000 pounds of rice, with large quan- 
tities of beef and ^^ork. Viewed as an evidence of the 
forethought of the colonists, these statistics are remark- 
able ; but there was something heroic and indeed almost 
pathetic in the project of going to war with the British 
government on the strength of twelve field-pieces and 
seventeen thousand pounds of salt fish. 

Yet when, on the night of the 18th of April, 1775, Paul 
Hevere rode beneath the bright moonlight through Lex- 
ington to Concord, with Dawes and Prescott for comrades, 
he was carrying the signal for the independence of a 
nation. He had seen across the Charles Eiver the two 
lights from the church-steeple in Boston which were to 
show that a British force was going out to seize the patri- 



HiGGiNSOx] FIRST SHOTS OF THE REVOLUTION. 447 

otic suj^i^lies at Concord ; he had warned Hancock and 
Adams at Eev. Jonas Clark's parsonage in Lexington, and 
had rejected Sergeant Monroe's caution against unneces- 
sary noise, with the rejoinder, " You'll have noise enough 
here before long: the regulars are coming out." As he 
galloj^ed on his yvi\.y the regulars were advancing with 
steady step behind him. soon warned of their own danger 
by alarm-bells and signal-guns. When Revere was cap- 
tured by some British officers who happened to be near 
Concord, Colonel Smith, the commander of the expedition, 
had already halted, ordered Pitcairn forward, and sent 
back prudently for reinforcements. It was a night of ter- 
ror to all the neighboring Middlesex towns, for no one 
knew what excesses the angry British troops might com- 
mit on their return march. . . . 

Before 5 a.m. on April 19, 1775, the British troops had 
reached Lexington Green, where thii"ty-eight men, under 
Captain Parker, stood up before six hundred or eight hun- 
dred to be shot at, their captain saying, "Don't fire unless 
you are fired on ; but if they want a war, let it begin here." 
It began there ; they were fired upon ; they fired rather 
ineffectually in return, while seven were killed and nine 
wounded. The rest, after retreating, reformed and pur- 
sued the British towards Concord, capturing seven strag- 
glers, — the first prisoners taken in the war. Then followed 
the fight at Concord, where four hundred and fifty Ameri- 
cans, instead of thirty eight, were rallied to meet the Brit- 
ish. The fighting took place between two detachments at 
the North Bridge, where 

" once the embattled farmerfs stood, 
And fired the shot heard round the world." 

There the American captain, Isaac Davis, was killed at 
the first shot, — he who had said, when his company was 



448 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Higginson 

placed at the head of the httle column, " I haven't a man 
that is afraid to go." He fell, and Major Buttrick gave 
the order, " Fire ! for God's sake, fire !" in return. The 
British detachment retreated in disorder, but their main 
body was too strong to be attacked, so they disabled a few 
cannon, destroyed some barrels of flour, cut down the 
liberty-pole, set fire to the court-house, and then began 
their return march. It ended in a flight; they were ex- 
posed to a constant guerilla fire; minute-men flocked behind 
every tree and house ; and only the foresight of Colonel 
Smith in sending for reinforcements had averted a sur- 
render. At 2 P.M., near Lexington, Percy with his troops 
met the returning fugitives, and formed a hollow square, 
into which they ran and thi-ew themselves on the ground 
exhausted. Then Percy in turn fell back. Militia still 
came pouring in from Dorchester, Milton, Dedham, as well 
as the nearer towns. A company from Danvers marched 
sixteen miles in four hours. The Americans lost ninety- 
three in killed, wounded, and missing that day; the British, 
two hundred and seventy-three. But the important result 
was that every American colony now recognized that war 
had begun. . . . 

The committee [of safety] had authority from the Pro- 
vincial Congress to order out the militia, and General 
Heath, who was a member of the committee, rode to take 
command of the provincials, with Warren by his side, who 
was sufficiently exposed that day to have a musket-ball 
strike the pin out of the hair of his ear-lock. The two 
continued together till the British army had crossed 
Charlestown Neck on its retreat, and made a stand on 
Bunker Hill. There they were covered by the ships. The 
militia were ordered to pursue no further, and General 
Heath held the first council of war of the Eevolution at 
the foot of Prospect Hill. . . . 



HiGGiNSON] FIRST SHOTS OF THE REVOLUTION. 449 

It is always hard to interpret the precise condition of 
public feeling just before a war. It is plain that the 
Massachusetts committee expected something more than a 
contest of words when they made so many preparations. 
On the other hand, it is evident that hardly any one looked 
forward to any serious and prolonged strife. Dr. Warren 
wrote, soon after the 19th of April, " The people never 
seemed in earnest about the matter until after the engage- 
ment of the 19th ult., and I verily believe that the night 
preceding the barbarous outrages committed by the sol- 
diery at Lexington, Concord, etc., there were not fifty 
people in the whole colony that ever expected any blood 
would be shed in the contest between us and Great 
Britain." Yet two days after the fight at Lexington the 
Massachusetts committee of safety resolved to enlist eight 
thousand men. Two days after that the news reached 
New York at noon. There was a popular outbreak ; the 
royal troops were disarmed, the forts and magazines seized, 
and two transports for Boston unloaded. At five o'clock 
on Monday afternoon the tidings reached Philadelphia, 
when the bell in Independence Hall was rung, and the 
people gathered in numbers. When it got so far as Charles- 
ton, South Carolina, the people seized the arsenal, and the 
Provincial Congress proclaimed them "ready to sacrifice 
their lives and fortunes." In Savannah, Georgia, a mob 
took possession of the powder-magazine, and raised a 
liberty-pole. In Kentucky a party of hunters, hearing of 
the battle, gave their encampment the name of Lexington, 
which it still bears; and thus the news went on. 

Meanwhile, on May 10, the Continental Congress con- 
vened, and on the same day Ethan Allen took possession 
of the strong fortress of Ticonderoga. It was the first 
act of positive aggression by the patriotic party, for at 
both Lexington and Concord they were acting on the de- 
i.—dd 38* 



450 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cutter 

fensive. The expedition was planned in Connecticut and 
reinforced in western Massachusetts, but the main reliance 
was to be placed on Ethan Allen and his " Green Mountain 
Boys," whose daring and energy wei*e already well known. 
Benedict Arnold, who had been commissioned in Massachu- 
setts for the same purpose, arrived only in time to join 
the expedition as a volunteer. On May 10, 1775, eighty- 
three men crossed the lake with Allen. When they had 
landed, he warned them that it was a dangerous enterprise, 
and called for volunteers. Every man volunteered. The 
rest took but a few moments. They entered with a war- 
whoop the open wicket-gate, pressing by the sentinel, and 
when the half-clad commander appeared and asked their 
authority, Allen answered with the words that have be- 
come historic, " In the name of the great Jehovah and the 
Continental Congress." 

The Congress was only to meet that day, but it appeared 
already to be exercising a sort of antenatal authority, and 
a fortress which had cost eight million pounds sterling 
and many lives was placed in its hands by a mere stroke 
of boldness. Crown Point gave itself up with equal ease 
to Seth Warner, and another dramatic surprise was given 
to the new-born nation. 



THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 

WILLIAM CUTTER. 

[The obstinate effort of the British ministry to oblige the Americans 
to pay taxes in the lajnng of which they had had no voice, and to 
force them to submit to their will by military force and severe com- 
mercial restrictions, had laid a train of irritation through the colonies 



Cutter] THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 451 

■wliich needed but a spark to kindle it into a blaze. That spark the fire 
of musketry at Lexington gave. A people who ten years before were 
fully loyal to England had been filled with rebellious sentiment by the 
effort to reduce them below the standard of liberty that was enjoyed 
by the English people. It was not, however, too late yet to bring 
them back to a state of loyalty. Had the troops been removed, the 
commercial restrictions abated, and the laying of taxes left to them- 
selves, it is not impossible that the region of the United States might 
yet have remained a portion of the British empire. It became impos- 
sible from the moment of the firing upon the militia at Lexington and 
Concord. The train which the ministry had laid was ignited by that 
act, and the whole people flamed up into war with a suddenness that 
must have greatly amazed those good easy legislators who were so 
firmly convinced that the Americans would not fight. In New Eng- 
land, in particular, the tide was definitely turned from peace to war. 
As the tidings were spread by rapidly-riding messengers, the farmers 
and artisans on all sides dropped the implements of industry, seized 
those of war, and marched in all haste upon Boston. One incident of 
this kind has become famous. Israel Putnam, who had won honors in 
the French and Indian War, and Captain Hubbard, were at work 6n 
their farms in adjoining fields, when a man on horseback, with a drum, 
stopped to tell them of the fight. Hubbard, a man of method, at once 
walked home, put things in order, filled his knapsack, and started for 
the camp ; but fiery old Putnam simply unyoked his team from the 
plough, sent his son home to tell his mother what had happened, 
mounted his horse, and dashed away for Boston, which he reached in 
twenty-four hours, though it was nearly one hundred miles distant. 

The militia were gathering with surprising rapidity. Within a few 
days an army of twenty thousand men was encamped around Boston, 
extending from Dorchester to the Mystic River, and completely enclos- 
ing the British troops within the city. Generals Ward and Putnam 
were made commanders of the army. Ward having the chief com- 
mand. In all haste they constructed lines of intrenchment sufficiently 
strong to encourage their undisciplined forces. During this interval, 
Gage, who had made no effort to face the provincials, was reinforced 
by troops under Generals Howe, Clinton, and Burgoyne, and had now 
an army of from ten to twelve thousand trained soldiers. Thus 
strengthened, he prepared to act with more energy, and issued a 
proclamation declaring those in arms rebels and traitors, and offering 
pardon to all who would go quietly home, with the exception of the 



452 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gutter 

arch-rebels Samuel Adams and John Hancock. The story of the 
stirring events which immediately followed we extract from Cutter's 
"Life of Israel Putnam."] 

The American commanders, having ascertained that 
the British intended to take i^ossessiou of the heights of 
Charlestown, as a vantage-ground from which to dislodge 
them from some of their intrenchments, and thus make a 
way into the country, resolved, by a sudden and secret 
movement, to defeat the project, by advancing to that 
position a portion of the left wing of their own camp. 

Putnam, who had ah'eady carefully examined the ground, 
was strenuously in favor of this movement, and had urged 
it again and again in council, with all the arguments at 
his command. In common with Preseott, and other vet- 
erans, who understood the character of the American sol- 
diery and knew the immense advantage to the order and 
discipline of the army which would be derived from active 
and hazardous service, he had repeatedly proposed to lead 
a party which should invite an engagement with the 
enemy. . . . 

The measure was ably opposed b}* some of the best and 
bravest men in the council, and there were obstacles in 
the way of its accomplishment which would have appalled 
any other men than those who planned and achieved it. 
One of these was the want of powder. There were, at 
that time, only eleven barrels in the public depots, and 
sixty-seven barrels in all Massachusetts, — scarcely enough, 
under the most prudent management, for one day's fight- 
ing. To this objection General Pomeroy answered that 
he was ready to lead his men to battle with but five car- 
tridges apiece. They were all experienced marksmen, and 
would fire no random shots ; and if every American killed 
his five, they would have but little occasion for more 
powder. . . . 



Cutter] THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 453 

The bolder counsels prevailed, and orders were issued 
to Colonels Prescott and Bridge, and the regiment of 
Colonel Frye, to be prepared for an expedition with all 
their men who were fit for service, and with one day's 
provision. The same order was issued to one hundred 
and twenty men of General Putnam's regiment, under the 
command of the brave Captain Knowlton, and one com- 
pany of artillery, with two field-pieces. Putnam, having 
the general superintendence of the expedition, and Colonel 
Gridley, the chief engineer, accompanied the troops. . . . 

The detachment drafted for this expedition, consisting 
of about one thousand men, under the immediate com- 
mand of Colonel Prescott, were assembled on the common 
at Cambridge at an early hour on the evening of the 16th 
of June, where prayers were offered by Eev. President 
Langdon, of Harvard College. Immediately after dark 
they commenced their silent march through Cambridge 
and across the Neck, Colonel Prescott leading the way. 
He was attended only by two sergeants, carrying dark 
lanterns, open only in the rear. 

Arrived at the base of Bunker Hill, they found the 
wagon laden with intrenching-tools, and then only were 
the men made acquainted with the nature and purpose 
of the expedition. A serious question now arose among 
the leaders. 

[It was perceived that intrenchments on Bunker Hill would be of 
minor importance unless the elevation known as Breed's Hill, nearer 
Boston, was seized and fortified. After a long consultation, Putnam's 
counsel was taken, to erect the main work on Breed's Hill, with a 
subsidiary one on Bunker Hill, as a protection to the rear, and as a 
rallying-point in case of defeat.] 

It was midnight before the first spade entered the 
ground. It was then within four days of the summer 
solstice. They had, consequently, but about four hours to 



454 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cutter 

work, before the dawning light would disclose their opera- 
tions to the enemy and expose them to an immediate can- 
nonading from the batteries in Boston and the ships in 
the harbor. But such was the spirit and resolution of the 
whole party, officers and men, that the work was effected 
in that brief space. Instructed and stimulated by Putnam 
and Prescott, who did not fear a spade or a pickaxe any 
more than a sword or a musket, and feeling that life and 
liberty alike depended on their success, they performed 
prodigies of labor during that notable night, — surpassed 
only by the prodigies of valor by which they signalized 
the following day. The works being in a state of prom- 
ising forwardness, and every man cheerfully doing his 
whole duty, Putnam repaired to his camp at an early hour, 
to make all necessary preparations for the coming crisis. 

The crisis came with the dawning light. When the 
British officers, aroused at peep of day by their startled 
sentinels, beheld their daring foes above them, overlooking 
their whole position with formidable intrenchments, which 
had sprung up as by enchantment in the night, they could 
scarcely credit the evidence of their own senses. It was 
instantly perceived that, if the Americans were not driven 
from their bold position at once, Boston would be no longer 
tenable b}^ the British. A council of war was called, which 
directed an immediate assault. 

Meanwhile, as preparations for the assault were going 
on, a brisk but unavailing fire was opened upon the Amer- 
icans from the armed vessels and floating batteries, and 
from the battery on Copp's Hill. . . . General Putnam, on 
discovering the design of the enemj', returned imraediatel}' 
to Cambridge, and urgently advised that a reinforcement 
should be sent to Colonel Prescott's aid, and that his men 
should be supplied with suitable refreshment before the 
action should commence. His application for reinforce- 



Cutter] THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 455 

ments was unsuccessful. General Ward was strongly im- 
pressed with the idea that the British would land on Leche- 
mere's Point, or Inman's farm, in Cambridge, and make 
an assault upon the camp, and so cut off the rear of the 
party in Charlestown. He was the more convinced of this, 
as the scanty depots of ammunition and military stores on 
which the salvation of the American armj- depended were 
at Cambridge and Watertown, and in no way could the 
British gain so decided an advantage over them as by se- 
curing or destroying them. And this had been the direct 
object of all their active operations hitherto. It appears, 
also, that a formidable party in Greneral Gage's council of 
war, among whom were Generals Clinton and Grant, were 
urgently in favor of making an attack at this place. Ward, 
therefore, thought it unsafe to weaken his own force, as 
that would not only invite an attack, but render it difficult 
to repel it. On the same grounds he resisted the earnest 
solicitation of Putnam's troops to follow their commander 
to the battle, assuring them that theirs was the post of 
danger, and, consequently, of honor. . . . 

The cannonading from the British ships and floating 
batteries, though kept up incessantly during all the morn- 
ing, effected nothing. The Americans kept on steadily at 
their works, suffering more from hunger and fatigue than 
from the fire or the fear of the enemy. Putnam was very 
anxious to avail himself of the time required for the Brit- 
ish troops to pi'epare for engagement, to throw up another 
redoubt, according to the original plan, and in obedience 
to orders, on Bunker Hill. He accordingly, with a hand- 
ful of men, commenced an intrenchment on that summit, 
which, if it could have been completed so far as to afford 
a tolerable protection to his troops, would have enabled 
him to cheek the advance of the British and prevent them 
from occupying the redoubt on Breed's Hill. The two 



456 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cutter 

summits were within gunshot of each other, the former, 
which was nearly thirty feet higher, having complete com- 
mand of the latter. 

[Little was done on this breastwork, the attack of the British making 
more urgent work for the men.] 

The veteran General Pomeroy, on hearing the distant 
roar of the artillery, borrowed a horse to carry him to the 
field. On approaching the neck, which was swept by a tre 
mendous firing from the British ships, he became alarmed, 
not for his own safety, but for that of the horse he had 
borrowed. He accordingly left his charger in charge 
of a sentinel, and coolly walked over, mounted the hill, 
and advanced to the rail fence. He was received with 
the highest exultation, and the name of Pomeroy rang 
through the line. 

[General Warren had previously made his way to the same point. 
Later, when it became evident that an assault would be made upon 
the works, General Ward sent reinforcements to Prescott.] 

The British van soon appeared in view. The Americans, 
eager to salute them, were with difficulty restrained from 
firing too soon. General Putnam rode along the line, 
giving strict orders that no one should fire till the enemy 
had arrived within eight rods, nor then, till the word of 
command should be given. " Powder is scarce," said he, 
" and must not be wasted. Do not fire at the enemj^ till 
you see the whites of their eyes; then fire low, — take aim 
at their waistbands, — aim at the handsome coats, — pick 
off the commanders." The same orders were given by 
Prescott, Pomeroy, Stark, and all the veteran officers. 

The effect of these orders was tremendous. "With a 
bold and confident front, assured of an easy victoi-y over 
the raw, undisciplined troops of the Provinces, the British 



Cutter] THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 457 

troops advanced to the fatal line, eight rods in advance of 
the defences, when a well-aimed volley from the deadly 
muskets within swept away the whole front rank, and 
laid many a gallant officer in the dust. Bank succeeded 
rank, and volley following volley mowed them down, till 
at length they were compelled to retreat. . . . 

Three times did the brave veterans of the British re- 
treat before the deadly fire of the American militia, with 
the loss of whole ranks of men and the very elite of their 
officers; and three times, in the face of this almost certain 
death, they returned to the charge. They had expected 
an easy victory, and promised themselves that at the first 
approach of a regular army the raw, undisciplined Ameri- 
cans would fly like frightened sheep. They now found, 
not less to their cost than to their surprise, that they had 
men to deal with, and that courage, daring, and the high- 
est heroism were less a matter of training than of prin- 
ciple. As Colonel Abercrombie led up his men to the 
charge, he was saluted by a familiar stentorian voice from 
the redoubt, reminding him, probably, of a reproachful 
epithet he had applied to his enemies: "Colonel Aber- 
crombie, are the Yankees cowards?" 

Hitherto the British had neglected the only manoeuvre 
by which they could possibly defeat their enemy, so long 
as their ammunition should last. This was to charge with 
the bayonet. The Americans were wholly unprovided 
with bayonets, and therefore could not resist nor with- 
stand a charge. But this the assailants did not know. 
They relied upon their fire, which was for the most part 
aimless and ineifectual, while every shot from the re- 
doubt, the breastwork, and the rail fence, being reserved 
and deliberate, found its victim. 

While these terrible scenes were enacting, several rein- 
forcements aiTived from Boston to the aid of the British, 
i.-u 39 



458 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cutter 

till their whole number amounted to not less than eight 
thousand. To add new horroi's to the scene, vast columns 
of smoke were observed over Charlestown, and the village 
was seen to be on fire in several places. 

[The British had been annoyed by a fire from this place, and sent a 
detachment of men to burn it. While they were doing so, and seek- 
ing to gain the rear of the Americans under cover of the smoke, 
Putnam saw them, and opened on them with some cannon which liad 
been deserted.] 

The pieces were well aimed, General Putnam dismount- 
ing and pointing them himself, and every ball took effect. 
One canister was so well directed that it made a complete 
lane through the columns of the enemy, and threw them 
into momentary confusion. With wonderful courage, how- 
ever, they closed their ranks, and advanced again to the 
charge. The Americans, their cartridges being spent, re- 
sorted to their muskets, and, suffering their assailants to 
appi'oach still nearer than before, poured in a volley with 
such deliberate aim that the front rank was swept wholly 
away, and officers and men fell in promiscuous heaps. . . . 

In the midst of this thunder of artillery and rattling 
of musketry, the sulphurous smoke rolling up in heavj- 
volumes, and the balls whistling by on every side. Cap- 
tain Foster, of Colonel Mansfield's regiment, arrived with 
a supply of powder from the American camp. It was 
brought in casks in wagons, and distributed loose to the 
soldiers, as they were able to take it; some receiving it in 
their horns, some in their pockets, and some in their hats, 
or whatever else they had that would hold it. 

More than a thousand of the best of the British troops 
had now fallen befoi'e the murdei-ous fire of an enemy 
whom they affected to despise as peasants and rebels. 
Among these was a large number of their bravest and 
most accomplished officers. . . . Meanwhile, the Ameri- 



Cutter] THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 459 

cans, protected by their intrencbments, had suffered but 
little loss. But now the crisis was to come. Their am- 
munition was exhausted, and there was no alternative but 
to retreat. General Howe had learned, by a tex-rible ex- 
perience, that it was vain to think of frightening the "un- 
disciplined rebels" from their defences by the mere smell 
of gunpowder. With the advice of the accomplished and 
chivalrous General Clinton, who had just come to his aid, 
he commanded the works to be scaled and the enemy 
driven out at the point of the bayonet. He led the charge 
in person, as he had done befoi'e. General Clinton joined 
General Pigot, with a view to turn the right flank of the 
enemy. The artillery were ordered to advance at the 
same time, turn the left of the breastwork, and rake the 
line. This was the most vulnerable point in the American 
defences, and had hitherto been wholly overlooked. 

[Every possible preparation was made to meet this charge, but the 
powder of the Americans was exhausted.] 

They had sent in vain to the camp for a further supply. 
The magazine there was reduced to less than two barrels. 
The few who had a charge remaining reserved their last 
tire till the artillery, now advancing to turn the flank of 
their breastwork, had approached within the prescribed 
distance. Then every shot took effect. The gallant Howe, 
who had escaped unhurt hitherto, received one of the last 
of the American balls in his foot. 

The fire of the Americans gradually diminished, and 
then ceased. Instantly their muskets were clubbed, and 
the stones of their defences were seized and hurled at the 
advancing foe. This only served to betray their weakness, 
and infused a new energy into their assailants. No longer 
exposed to that destructive fire which had so fearfully 
thinned their ranks, they now marched forward, scaled 



460 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cuttek 

the redoubt, and began the work of retribution. The ar- 
tillery, advancing at the same instant to the open space 
on the north, between the breastwork and the rail fence, 
enfiladed the line, and sent their balls through the open 
gate-way, or sally-port, directly into the redoubt, under 
cover of which the troops at the breastwork were com- 
pelled to retire. 

The heroic but diminutive Pigot was the first to scale 
the works. He was instantly followed by his men, now 
confident of an easy victor3^ Troops succeeded troops 
over the parapet, till that little arena, where the first great 
effort of American prowess was put forth, was filled with 
combatants, prepared to contest its possession. 

To contend, without a bayonet in his company, against 
such a superior force, would have been worse than mad- 
ness. Prescott saw this, and reluctantly ordered a retreat. 
He and Warren were the last to leave the redoubt. The 
latter seemed to disdain to fly, even when nothing else 
remained to him. With sullen reluctance he followed his 
countr3-men to the port, which he had scarcely passed when 
a ball from the enemy arrested him. Major Small [of the 
British arni}'], as a personal friend, . . . endeavored to 
save him. But AYarren would neither yield nor fly. He 
fell between the retreat and the pursuit, having won the 
respect of his enemies and the everlasting gratitude of 
his countrymen, and leaving his name as one of the watch- 
words of liberty throughout the world. . . . 

The retreating Americans were now between the two 
wings of the British armj^, so that they could not fire 
without endangering the lives of each other. A brave 
and orderly retreat was effected. . . . Putnam, though 
the balls fell around him like hail, was wholly insensible 
of danger. Coming to one of the deserted field-pieces, he 
dismounted, took his stand by its side, and seemed resolved 



Cutter] THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 461 

to brave the foe alone. One sergeant alone dared to stand 
by him in this perilous position. He was soon shot down, 
and the general himself retired only when the British 
bayonets were close upon him and he was in imminent 
danger of being made a prisoner. . . . 

The Americans had retreated about twenty rods, before 
the enemy had time to rally. They were then suddenly 
exposed to a desti-uctive fire, which proved more fatal to 
them than all the previous contest. Some of the best and 
bravest men were left on this part of the field, and several 
oflScers, whose behavior that da}^ had given promise of the 
highest military distinction. The retreat was maintained 
in good order, over the JSTeck, to Prospect and Winter Hills, 
where they took up their position for the night, throwing 
up hasty intrenchments, which were soon strengthened 
and fortified, so as to present to the enemy another line 
of defence, equallj' formidable with that they had just pur 
chased at the expense of so much blood. 

[The story of the battle of Bunker Hill is so familiar to readers as 
ordinarily presented that we offer the above account as a picture of the 
same scene from a somewhat different point of view. Though Putnam 
was the superior in rank, Prescott was the actual commander. Yet 
Putnam's deeds upon the field were of sufficient interest to warraat our 
bringing him into the foreground of the picture. The result of this 
battle, though technically unfavorable to the Americans, was of the 
utmost importance as inspiring them to the determined prosecution 
of the war. The number of British regulars engaged, though not 
so great as above stated, was double that of the Americans, and the 
bravery of the latter in holding their imperfect works until their 
powder gave out, and until they had killed and wounded a number of 
the enemy nearly equal to their whole force engaged, gave a sufficient 
and satisfactory answer to the question which had been broached in 
England, "Will the Americans fight?"] 



39* 



462 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Arnold 

ARNOLD ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN. 

ISAAC N. ARNOLD. 

[The battle of Bunker Hill was quickly followed by decided action 
on the part of Congress, then in session at Philadelphia. An address 
was made to the king and people of Great Britain, and the world was 
advised of the reason of the appeal to arms. " We are reduced," said 
they, " to the alternative of choosing an unconditional submission to 
the tyranny of irritated ministers, or resistance by force. The latter is 
our choice. We have counted the cost of this contest, and find noth- 
ing so dreadful as voluntarj'^ slavery." An army of twenty thousand 
men was ordered to be enlisted, and George Washington was elected 
commander-in-chief of all the colonial forces. 

Washington, who refused any compensation for his services, soon 
proceeded to Cambridge, where he undertook to organize the army 
there present. The task was a diificult one. The militia were undis- 
ciplined, insubordinate, and destitute of most of the requirements of 
an army. But by his energy and skill, and the assistance of General 
Gates, the men were reduced to discipline, stores collected, and a 
regular siege instituted. 

While this was being performed, the authority of the royal govern- 
ors everywhere ended in the colonies. The only one who made any 
effort to retain his power was Lord Dunmore, of Virginia. He seized 
a quantity of the public powder and placed it on board a vessel, but 
was forced to pay for it by an armed body of people, led by Patrick 
Henry. He then retired to a man-of-war, armed some vessels, and 
manned them with slaves to whom he promised freedom. He attacked 
the provincials near Norfolk, but sustained a severe defeat. In re- 
venge for this he soon after burned Norfolk to the ground. He then 
retired, and royal government ceased to exist in America. 

As the capture of Ticonderoga and Crown Point opened an easy 
gateway to Canada, it was determined to invade that province. This 
was done partly to anticipate the British, who appeared to design an 
invasion from that quarter, and partly with the belief that success 
would induce the Canadians to join the revolted colonies. A force 
under Generals Schuyler and Montgomery passed up Lake Champlain 
and besieged St. John's, the frontier post of Canada. During the 



Arnold] ARNOLD ON LAKE CHAM PLAIN. 463 

siege, Ethan Allen, with eighty men, rashly assailed Montreal. He 
was defeated, captured, and sent in irons to England. Schuyler having 
retired through illness, Montgomery captured St. John's on Novem- 
ber 3, and proceeded to Montreal, which surrendered on the 13th. 

Meanwhile, a force of one thousand men under General Benedict 
Arnold was marching north througli Maine. This march through the 
unbroken wilderness was one of estiaordinary difficulty and hardship. 
A part of the force turned back, and it was with but six hundred ex- 
hausted and half-starved men that Arnold reached Point Levi, op- 
posite Quebec, on November 13. Without delay he cro.ssed the St. 
Lawrence, ascended the heights which Wolfe had scaled before him, 
and marshalled his small force on the Plains of Abraham. As the 
garrison could not be induced to assail him, and as his force was too 
small to attempt to storm the walls, he retired, and awaited the arrival 
of Montgomery from Montreal. 

Their united forces numbered but nine hundred men, but with these, 
on the last day of* the year, they made an early morning attack on 
Quebec, in the midst of a driving snow-storm. At the very beginning 
of the assault Montgomery, with several of his officers, fell dead before 
the discharge of a cannon loaded with grape. Their men retreated in 
disorder, and the garrison turned against Arnold, who had entered the 
town. He received a ball in the leg, and was, almost by compulsion, 
removed from the field. The contest continued for several hours, but 
ended in the surrender of a portion of Arnold's force, while the re- 
mainder retired. 

Keinforcements being received, the siege of the city was kept up 
until the following May, when a British fleet ascended the St. Law- 
rence, and the Americans were forced to retreat. Step by step they 
were driven back, until obliged to evacuate Canada entirely. Carleton, 
the Canadian governor, soon followed, and both sides prepared to con- 
test the possession of Lake Champlain, building ships, and sailing to 
meet each other on that inland sea. As this was the first naval battle 
ever fought between England and America, and as it was contested by 
the Americans with consummate skill and courage, a detailed descrip- 
tion of it must prove of interest to readers. AVe select a fully-detailed 
narrative of the engagement from Isaac N. Arnold's " Life of Benedict 
Arnold."] 

Sir Guy Carleton early saw the importance of obtain- 
ing naval supremacy on these waters, that he might bring 



464 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Arnold 

the English troops to Ticonderoga, within convenient dis- 
tance of Albany, looking to a junction ultimately with the 
king's forces from the city of New York, and thereby sepa- 
rating and isolating New England from the other States. 
These lakes and their connections formed the most prac- 
ticable route by which the United States could be invaded 
from Canada; and both parties, in the summer of 1776. 
prepared vigorously to contest their control. 

Carleton, the British leader, had many advantages over 
Gates and Arnold in the race of preparation. He had con- 
tractors and ship-builders from England, and naval stores 
in abundance from the fleet in the St. Lawrence and from 
Quebec. The English admiralty contributed liberally in 
material for ship-building and in naval equipments. It 
sent out three vessels of war fully prepared for service ; 
more than two hundred flat-bottomed boats were built at 
Montreal and taken to St. John's ; and the larger vessels, 
unable to ascend the rapids, were taken to pieces and 
reconstructed at the last-mentioned place. One of these, 
the Inflexible, was a three-masted ship, carrying twenty 
twelve-pound guns and ten smaller guns. About seven 
hundred experienced sailors, and the very best of young 
naval ofiicers, were selected from the vessels of war and 
transports to man and command the lake fleet. 

The Americans had to cut from the forest every stick 
of timber for the additions to their small fleet. All their 
naval stores and material had to be brought from tide- 
water and the Atlantic, over roads nearly impassable. 
They lacked money, skilled ship-builders, naval stores, — 
everything; still, they were zealous, active, hopeful, and 
energetic. General Arnold, having some knowledge of 
ships, ship-building, and navigation, was selected to super- 
intend the construction of the fleet, and to command it 
when ready for service. . . . 



Arnold] ARNOLD ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN. 465 

He was constantly going to and fro, urging on tlie work, 
making requisition for mechanics, for seamen, for naval 
stores, for ordnance, for everything necessary to build, 
equip, arm, and man his little fleet. But no degi-ee of 
energy and activity could enable him to equal the arma- 
ment which Sir Guy Carleton could bring from the St. 
Lawrence to the theatre of conflict. . . . On the 1st of 
October, Arnold, writing to Gates, complains that the sea- 
men have not been sent, and hopes he shall be excused 
"if with five hundred men, half naked," he should not be 
able to beat the enemy in their overwhelming numbers 
and complete preparation. He sends for shot, musket- 
balls, buckshot, grenades, clothing, and " one hundred sea- 
men, — no landlubbers." 

Gates replies on the 3d, and sends what he can, but says, 
"What is not to be had, you and the princes of the earth 
must go unprovided with." . . . 

Gates gave to Arnold careful instructions, and, among 
other directions, said, " Should the enemy come up the lake 
and attempt to force their way through the pass you are 
stationed to defend, in that case you will act with such 
cool, determined valor as will give them reason to repent 
of their temerity." 

ifc ^ ^ ^l* *if 'i' "J-* 

•7" •T* 'T* •T' ^ 'f* ^ 

The time at which the desperate struggle for supremacy 
between the fleet of Arnold and that of Sir Guy Carleton 
approached, Schuj^ler, Gates, Washington, — all were con- 
scious of the great superiority of the British. All were 
anxious, but each indulged hope, arising mainly from the 
desperate valor of Arnold. Knowing his inferiority in 
ships, in weight of metal, and in men, Arnold avoided 
the possibility of an encounter on the open lake, where he 
might have been flanked or surrounded, by anchoring his 
fleet in a line between Yalcour Island and the western 



466 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Arnold 

shore. In this position, the rear being unapproachable, 
and his line extending across the channel, he could be at- 
tacked in front only. This was the first time an American 
fought a British fleet. . . . 

The British fleet consisted of the Inflexible, a large, 
three-masted ship, two schooners, the Lady Mary and the 
Carleton, a floating battery called the Thunderer, twenty 
gun-boats, besides long-boats and transports. " They had," 
says Bancroft, " more than twice his [Arnold's] w^eight of 
metal, and twice as many fighting-vessels,, and skilled sea- 
men and officers against landsmen." As has been stated, 
the British armed vessels were manned by about seven 
hundred selected seamen and well-trained gunners. Cap- 
tain Pringle, of the British navy, commanded, but Carle- 
ton was himself on board, and among the many young 
ofllcers was Edward Pellew, afterwards distinguished as 
Admiral Yiscount Exmouth. This fleet carried ninety- 
three guns, some of them of heavy calibre. The fleet 
of Arnold consisted of three schooners, two sloops, three 
galleys, and eight gondolas, carrying in all seventy guns. 

Early on the morning of the 11th of October, the guard- 
\)oats, stationed as sentinels, gave notice that the British 
fleet was approaching, and it soon appeared off Cumber- 
land Head, moving before a fair wind up the lake. Carle- 
ton came on, conscious of his greatly superior strength, 
with his battle-flags proudly flying, and when the fleet of 
Arnold was discovered, moored in the passage behina 
Valcour Island, Captain Pringle expressed his belief that 
they would not encounter much resistance, and he antici- 
pated an easy victor}^ ; but Carleton, remembering Quebec, 
knew that Arnold would fight to desperation. As the 
enemy approached, the Americans made ready to receive 
them. As they advanced around the southern point of 
Valcour Island and attempted to beat up towards the 



Arjtold] ARNOLD ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN. 467 

channel in which the Americans had formed their hne 
of battle, the large ships fell behind. Arnold, who rarely 
waited to be attacked, determined to take advantage of 
the wind and attack the smaller vessels, which were in 
advance, before the large ones could beat up to their as- 
sistance. With the schooner Royal Savage, and three 
galleys, he went to meet the British, and opened a rapid 
fire, but was gradually pushed back by superior force, and 
attempting to return to the line, in beating back, the 
Royal Savage, with its inexperienced crew, went aground 
and was abandoned, — Arnold losing his baggage and all 
his papers, but the men were saved. 

At half-past twelve, the British having brought all their 
gun-boats and schooners within musket-shot of the Ameri- 
can line, the action became general, and from the shore of 
the mainland to the island the hostile fleets fired at close 
range. Arnold, in the Congress galley, to which he had 
gone after abandoning the Royal Savage, anchored in the 
hottest part of the fire, and here, with obstinate determina- 
tion, he held his position against all odds till five o'clock 
in the afternoon, when the enemy retired. During this 
long afternoon, a terrific cannonade of round- and grape- 
shot was continually kept up, and a constant blaze of rifles 
by a large body of Indians in the covers of the forest on 
the shores of the island and the mainland. But, as Arnold 
had taken the precaution to protect his men and his ships 
by fascines attached to the sides of the vessels, the rifles 
did little execution. So terrific was the cannonade that 
the roar of the heavy guns is said to have been heard at 
Crown Point. The Congress and the Washington galleys 
received the most injury. Arnold, in the former, which 
was armed with two eighteen-pounders, two twelves, and 
two sixes, fought with desperate heroism. In the absence 
of experienced gunners, he pointed most of the pieces him- 



468 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Arnold 

self, passing rapidly from gun to gun, and firing as fast 
as they could be loaded. The vessel received seven shots 
between wind and water, was hulled twelve times, the 
mainmast was wounded in two places, the rigging cut to 
pieces; yet, in this condition, and with dead and wounded 
all around him, he refused to yield or retreat, but hour 
after hour, for five hours, cheered on his men by word and 
example, until, as night approached, the British withdrew, 
retiring from an enemy commanded by a man who would 
never know that he was beat, and who would rather go 
down with flags flying than surrender. 

The Washington galley was nearly as badly shattered as 
the Congress, the first lieutenant killed, and the captain and 
master wounded. The New York lost all her oflScers ex- 
cept her captain. The Philadelphia was hulled in so many 
places that she sunk one hour after the engagement. The 
whole number of killed and wounded was about eighty. 

Never has there been exhibited a more striking illus- 
tration of Arnold's wonderful power of leadership and 
ability to inspire his men with heroic bravery, and power 
to make militia fight with unflinching courage, than on 
this occasion. 

As darkness fell over the scene of this terrible conflict, 
the British commander posted his fleet across the channel 
thi-ough which Arnold must pass to eff'ect his escape, with 
the expectation that in the morning, with his greatly su- 
perior force, he would capture the whole American flotilla. 
Arnold, however, determined to make an efli'ort to escape, 
and, if he failed, to destroy his shij)s, land his men, and 
fight his way through the Indians to Crown Point. . . . 
It was a hazy night, and a fair wind had sprung up from 
the north, and so, each vessel, putting out every light ex- 
cept a single signal-lantern in the stern, to guide the ship 
that followed, attempted to pass through the British lines. 



Arnold] ARNOLD ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN. 469 

As the darkness of the misty night gathered over the 
waters, the first vessel started, and in breathless silence 
one by one the whole flotilla glided through, between the 
hostile vessels, — Arnold in the Congress bi'inging up the 
rear, and, as usual, the last to leave, as he was ever the 
first to reach, the post of danger. They were undiscovered. 
It was skilfully, gallantly, admirably done; and now, with 
a fresh breeze, the crippled vessels bore away as rapidly 
as possible vip the lake. Using all possible expedition, 
the fleet reached Schuyler's Island, some twelve miles from 
the scene of the battle ; and here they were compelled to 
lay to, and stop the leaks in their vessels and repair 
damages. . . . 

Two of the gondolas were so badly injured that they 
had to be abandoned and sunk. In the afteimoon the 
remainder of the crippled flotilla again got under way ; 
but the wind gradually ceased, and soon a breeze sprung 
up from the south, retarding their advance, so that very 
little progress could be made by beating and rowing. The 
next morning, as the fog rose and the sun came out, the 
whole British fleet, with every sail set, was seen crowding 
down upon them. The crippled Congress, with Arnold 
on board, the Washington, and some gondolas, were in 
the rear. All the others, with every inch of canvas 
spread, and ui-ged to the utmost, were flying towards 
Crown Point. It was but a short time, however, before 
the enemy came up and opened fire on the Congress, the 
Washington, and the gondolas. After receiving a few 
broadsides, the Washington struck her colors ; but Arnold 
had no thought of surrender. He determined with the 
Congress and the crippled gondolas to fight the whole fleet 
of the enemy, and so retard their advance that the re- 
mainder of his vessels might make good their escape, — 
to sacrifice himself, if necessary, to their safety. He re- 
I. 40 



470 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Arnold 

ceived the whole fire of the hostile fleet. A ship mount- 
ing twelve eighteen-pound guns, a schooner of fourteen 
six-pounders, and another of twelve sixes, two under her 
stern and one on her broadside, poured their concentrated 
fire of round- and grape-shot into the ah-eady disabled 
Congress. These vessels kept up an incessant fire for 
four hours upon this one ship, which Arnold returned as 
best he could. Thus the English fleet was delaj-ed, and 
the remainder of his own were making good their escape. 
The Congress was so disabled she could not fly, and Ar- 
nold would not surrender. Her sails, rigging, and hull 
were shattered and torn to fragments ; the lieutenant 
killed ; the crew, many of them, killed and wounded. 
Still her stern commander had no thought of striking his 
flag, and continued the contest, until still other vessels of 
the enemy arrived, and he found himself surrounded with 
seven sail, each pouring in upon the hapless Congress 
broadside after broadside; and still, in the openings of the 
enemy's sails, and of the smoke of their guns, which thickly 
enveloped him, his flag could be seen still flying. 

His ship was now a complete wreck, and, as he could 
fight no more, he managed to break through the vessels 
which surrounded him, and ran the Congress and the gon- 
dolas into a small creek ; and, ordering the marines to 
leap overboard and wade ashore with their small-arms, he 
then set fire to the ship and the gondolas, and, protected 
from the approach of small boats by the muskets of the 
marines, he lingered until the fire had extended too far to 
be extinguished, and then, his flag still flying, and order- 
ing all his men ashore, he himself the last to leave, leaped 
from the bowsprit to the beach, and both he and his men, 
escaping an Indian ambuscade by taking an unusual route, 
arrived in safety at Crown Point, and passed on to Ticon- 
deroga. Where has there been a braver fight ? Well may 



Arnold] ARNOLD ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN. 471 

the sober Mr. Sparks, roused by the magnetism of such 
conduct, exclaim, '• There are few instances on record of 
more deliberate courage and gallantry than were displayed 
by him from beginning to end of this action." . . . 

" Such were the skill, bravery, and obstinate resistance 
of Arnold and his men against a vastly superior force : the 
event was hailed as ominous of great achievements when 
such fearful odds did not exist." [Lossing.] 

" General Arnold covered himself with glory, and his 
example appears to have been nobly followed by most of 
his officers and men. Even the enemy did justice to the 
resolution and skill with which the American flotilla was 
managed, the disparity of force rendering victory out of 
the question from the first. The manner in which the 
Congress was fought until she had covered the retreat of 
the galleys, and the stubborn resolution with which she 
was defended until destroyed, converted the disasters of 
this part of the day into a species of triumph." [Cooper's 
Naval History.] 

[The above article displays to a certain extent the special pleading 
of an ardent advocate of General Arnold ; yet that the battle was 
fought with striking bravery, and that Arnold was a man of unusual 
boldness and intrepidity, is undeniable. Had he been of smaller 
calibre his subsequent treason would have been of less importance. 
This action took place after the period fixed for the conclusion of the 
present volume, but, as it is a direct outcome of the preceding invasion 
of Canada, we give it here, as a fitting close to that episode. The con- 
trol of Lake Champlain, gained by it to the British, opened the way 
to events which were among the most important of the whole war.] 



472 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Kamsay 

THE SIEGE OF BOSTON. 

DAVID KAMSAY. 

[That the British army and its oflBcers permitted themselves to be 
cooped up for nearly a year in Boston, without an effort to hreak 
through the weak bonds that held them prisoners, was undoubtedly 
an important advantage to the American cause. For the patriot 
army of that day, though it had given a noble account of itself at 
Bunker Hill, was ill fitted in discipline, in arms, in condition, and in 
all military essentials, to cope with the thoroughly-trained and well- 
appointed British regulars had they made a determined aggressive 
movement. Washington, on reaching Boston, found himself provided 
with very poor material to face a disciplined force. The freedom and 
equality to which New-Englanders had long been accustomed made 
them highly intractable to military discipline, and democratically 
resistant to the aristocratic ideas and manner in which Washington 
had been trained. It was, therefore, with great difficulty, and with 
much bitterness of spirit on both sides, that the militia were brought 
into anything resembling discipline. An account of the operations 
of this army we select from Ramsay's " History of the American 
Revolution, " a valuable old work, written but a few years after the 
Revolution had ended.] 

As the year 1775 drew to a close, the friends of Congress 
were embarrassed with a new difficulty. Their army 
was temporary, and only engaged to serve out the year. 
The object for which they had taken up arms was not 
yet obtained. Every reason which had previously induced 
the provinces to embody a military force still existed, and 
with increasing weight. It was therefore resolved to 
form a new army. The same flattering hopes were in- 
dulged, that an army for the ensuing year would answer 
every purpose. ... It was presumed that the spirit which 
had hitherto operated on the yeomanry of the countr}' 
would induce most of the same individuals to engage for 



EAMSA-k] THE SIEGE OF BOSTON. 4^,-^ 

another twelvemonth ; but on experiment it was found 
that much of their militarj' ardor had already evaporated. 
The first impulse of passion and the novelty of the scene 
bad brought man}' to the field who had great objections 
against continuing in the military line. They found that 
to be soldiers required sacrifices of which when they as- 
sumed that character they had no idea. So unacquainted 
were the bulk of the people with the mode of carrying on 
modern war that many of them flew to arms with the 
delusive expectation of settling the whole dispute by a 
few decisive and immediate engagements. Experience 
soon taught them that to risk life in open fighting was 
but a part of the soldier's duty. Several of the inferior 
oflicers retired ; the men frequently refused to enlist unless 
they were allowed to choose their officers. Others would 
not engage unless they were indulged with furloughs. 
Fifty would aj)ply together for leave of absence. Indul- 
gence threatened less ruinous consequences than a refusal 
would probably have produced. On the whole, enlist- 
ments went on slowly. ... So many difficulties retarded 
the recruiting service that on the last day of the year 
1775 the whole American army amounted to no more than 
nine thousand six hundred and fifty men. Of the re- 
markable events with which this important year was 
replete, it was not the least that within musket-shot of 
twenty British regiments one army was disbanded and 
another enlisted. 

All this time the British troops at Boston were suff'ering 
the inconvenience of a blockade. From the 19th of April 
they were cut off" from those refreshments which their 
situation required. Their supplies from Britain did not 
reach the coast for a long time after they were expected. 
Several were taken by the American cruisers, and others 
were lost at sea. This was in particular the fate of many 
I. 40* 



474 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ramsay 

of their coal-ships. The want of fuel was particularly felt 
in a climate where the winter is both sevei'e and tedious. 
They relieved themselves in part from their sufferings on 
this account by the timber of houses which they pulled 
down and burnt. Vessels w^ere despatched to the West 
Indies to jDrocure provisions ; but the islands were so 
straitened that they could afford but little assistance. 
Armed ships and transports were ordered to Geo'gia with 
an intent to procure rice; but the people of that province, 
with the aid of a party from South Carolina, so effectually 
disposed of them that of eleven vessels only two got off 
safe with their cargoes. It was not till the stock of the 
garrison was nearly exhausted, that the transports from 
England entered the port of Boston and relieved the dis- 
tresses of the garrison. 

While the troops within the lines were apprehensive of 
suffering from want of provisions, the troops without were 
equally uneasy for want of employment. Used to labor 
and motion on their farms, they but illy relished the in- 
activity and confinement of a camp life. Fiery spirits 
declaimed in favor of an assault. They jDreferred a bold 
spirit of enterprise, to that passive fortitude which bears 
u^ under present evils while it waits for favorable junc- 
tures. To be in readiness for an attempt of this kind, a 
council of war recommended to call in seven thousand two 
hundred and eighty militia-men from New Hampshire or 
Connecticut. This number, added to the regular arm}' 
before Boston, would have made an operating force of 
about seventeen thousand men. 

The provincials labored under great inconveniences from 
the want of arms and ammunition. Yery early in the 
contest, the King of Great Britain, bj^ proclamation, for- 
bade the exportation of warlike stores to the colonies. 
Great exertions had been made to manufacture saltpetre 



Kamsay] the siege OF BOSTON. 475 

and gunpowder, but the supply was slow" and inadequate. 
A secret committee of Congress bad been appointed, with 
ample powers to lay in a stock of this necessary article. 
Some swift-sailing vessels had been despatched to the coast 
of Africa to purchase what could be procured in that dis- 
tant region ; a party from Charleston forcibly took about 
seventeen thousand pounds of powder from a vessel near 
the bar of St. Augustine ; some time after, Commodore 
Hopkins stripped Providence, one of the Bahama Islands, 
of a quantity of artillery and stoi'es ; but the whole, pro- 
cured from all these quarters, was far short of a sufficiency. 
In order to supply the new army before Boston with the 
necessary means of defence, an application was made to 
Massachusetts for arms, but on examination it was found 
that their public stores afforded only two hundred. Orders 
were issued to purchase firelocks from private persons, but 
few had any to sell, and fewer would part with them. In 
the month of Febi-uary there were two thousand of the 
American infantry who were destitute of arms. Powder 
was equally scai'ce ; and yet daily appHcations were made 
for dividends of the small quantity which was on hand 
for the defence of the various parts threatened with in- 
vasion. 

The eastern colonies presented an unusual sight. A 
powerful enemy safely intrenched in their first city, while 
a fleet was ready to transport them to any part of the 
coast. A numerous body of husbandmen was resolutely 
bent on opposition, but without the necessary arms and 
ammunition for self-defence. The eyes of all were fixed 
on General Washington, and from him it was unreasonably 
expected that he would by a bold exertion free the town 
of Boston from the British troops. The dangerous situa- 
tion of public affairs led him to conceal the real scai-city 
of arms and ammunition, and, with that magnanimity 



476 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Kamsat 

which is characteristic of great minds, to suffer his char- 
acter to be assailed rather than vindicate himself b}' ex- 
posing his many wants. There were not wanting persons 
who, judging from the superior number of men in the 
American arm}-, boldly asserted that if the commander-in- 
chief was not desirous of prolonging his importance at the 
head of an army, he might by a vigorous exertion gain 
possession of Boston. Such suggestions were reported and 
believed by several, while they were uncontradicted by 
the general, who chose to risk his fame rather than expose 
his army and his countr}-. 

Agreeably to the request of the council of wai", about 
seven thousand of the militia had rendezvoused in Febru- 
ary. General Washington stated to his officers that the 
troops in camp, togetlier with the reinforcements which 
had been called for and were daily coming in, would 
amount to nearly seventeen thousand men, — that he had 
not powder sufficient for a bombardment, and asked their 
advice whether, as reinforcements might be daily expected 
to the enemy, it would not be prudent, before that event 
took place, to make an assault on the British lines. The 
proposition was negatived; but it was recommended to 
take possession of Dorchester Heights. To conceal this 
design, and to divert the attention of the gai*rison, a bom- 
bardment of the town from other directions commenced, 
and was carried on for three days with as mvich briskness 
as a deficient stock of powder would admit. In this first 
essay, three of the mortars were broken, either from a de- 
fect in their construction, or, more probably, from igno- 
rance of the proper mode of using them. 

The night of the 4th of March was fixed upon for taking 
possession of Dorchester Heights. A covering party of 
about eight hundred led the way. These were followed 
by the carts with the intrenching tools, and twelve hun- 



RamsayJ the siege OF BOSTON. -477 

dred of a working-party, commanded by General Thomas. 
In the rear there were more than two hundred carts loaded 
with fascines and hay in bundles. While the cannon were 
playing in other parts, the greatest silence was kept by 
this working-party. The active zeal of the industrious 
provincials completed lines of defence by the morning 
which astonished the garrison. The difference between 
Dorchester Heights on the evening of the 4th and the 
morning; of the 5th seemed to realize the tales of i^omance. 
The admiral informed General Howe that if the Amei-i- 
cans kept possession of these heights he would not be able 
to keep one of his majesty's ships in the harbor. It was 
therefore determined in a council of war to attempt to dis- 
lodge them. An engagement was hourly expected. It 
was intended by General Washington, in that case, to force 
his way into Boston with four thousand men, who were 
to have embarked at the mouth of Cambridge River. The 
militia had come forward with great alertness, each bring- 
ing three days' provision, in expectation of an immediate 
assault. The men were in high spirits and impatiently 
waiting for the appeal. 

They were reminded that it was the 5th of March, and 
were called upon to avenge the death of their countiy- 
men killed on that day. The many eminences in and 
near Boston which overlooked the gi-ound on which it was 
expected that the contending parties would engage were 
crowded with numerous spectators. But General Howe 
did not intend to attack till the next day. In order to be 
ready for it, the transports went down in the evening 
towards the castle. In the night a most violent storm, 
and towards morning a heavy flood of rain, came on. A 
carnage was thus providentially prevented that would 
probably have equalled, if not exceeded, the fatal 17th of 
June at Bunker's Hill. In this situation it was agreed by 



478 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Kamsay 

the British, in a council of war, to evacuate the town as 
soon as possible. 

[Their enforced delay had permitted "Washington so to strengthen 
his works as to render an assault on them too dangerovis to be attempted.] 

In a few days after a flag came out of Boston, with 
a paper signed by four selectmen, informing, "that they 
had applied to General Eobertson, who, on an application 
to General Howe, was authorized to assure them that he 
had no intention of burning the town, unless the troops 
under his command were •molested during their embarka- 
tion, or at their departure, by the armed force without." 
When this paper was presented to General Washington, 
he replied, " that as it was an unauthenticated paper, and 
without an address, and not obligatory on General Howe, 
he could take no notice of it;" but at the same time inti- 
mated his good wishes for the security of the town. 

A proclamation was issued by General Howe, ordering 
all woollen and linen goods to be delivered to Crean Brush, 
Esq. Shops were opened and stripped of their goods. A 
licentious plundering took place. Much was carried off, 
and more was wantonly destroyed. These irregularities 
were forbidden in orders, and the guilty threatened with 
death ; but nevertheless every mischief which disappointed 
malice could suggest was committed. 

The British, amounting to more than seven thousand 
men, evacuated Boston, leaving their barracks standing, 
and also a number of cannon spiked, four large iron sea- 
mortars, and stores to the value of thirty thousand pounds. 
They demolished the castle, and knocked off the trunnions 
of the cannon. Various incidents cau.sed a delay of nine 
days after the evacuation, before they left Nantasket 
road. 

This embarkation was attended with many circura 



Kamsat] the siege OF BOSTON. 479 

stances of distress and embarrassment. On the departure 
of the royal army from Boston, a great number of the in- 
habitants attached to their sovereign, and afraid of pubHc 
resentment, chose to abandon their country. From the 
great multitude about to depart, there was no possibility 
of procuring purchasers for their furniture, neither was 
there a sufficiency of vessels for its convenient transpor- 
tation. Mutual jealousy subsisted between the army and 
navy, each charging the other as the cause of some part 
of their common distress. The ai*my was full of discon- 
tent. Eeinforcements, though long promised, had not ar- 
rived. Both officers and soldiers thought themselves 
neglected. Five months had elapsed since they had re- 
ceived any advice of their destination. Wants and incon- 
veniences increased their ill humor. Their intended voyage 
to Halifax subjected them to great dangers. The coast, at 
all times hazardous, was eminently so at that tempestuous 
equinoctial season. The}- had reason to fear they would 
be blown off to the West Indies, and without a sufficient 
stock of provisions. They were also going to a barren 
country. To add to their difficulties, this dangerous 
voyage, when completed, was directly so much out of their 
way. Their business la}^ to the southward, and they were 
going northward. Under all these difficulties, and with 
all these gloomy prospects, the fleet steered for Halifax. 
Contrary to appearances, the voyage thither was both 
short and prosperous. They remained there for some time, 
waiting for reinforcements and instructions from England. 
When the royal fleet and army departed from Boston, 
several ships were left behind for the protection of vessels 
coming from England, but the American privateers were 
so alert that they nevertheless made many prizes. Some 
of the vessels which they captured were laden with arms 
and warlike stores. Some transports, with troops on 



480 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ollier 

board, were also taken. These had run into the harbor, 
not knowing that the place was evacuated. 

The boats employed in the embarkation of the British 
troops had scarcely completed their business when General 
Washington, with his army, marched into Boston. He 
was received with marks of approbation more flattering 
than the pomps of a triumph. The inhabitants, released 
from the severities of a garrison life, and from the various 
indignities to which they were subjected, hailed him as 
their deliverer. Eeciprocal congratulations between those 
who had been confined within the British lines, and those 
who were excluded from entering them, were exchanged 
with an ardor which cannot be described. General "Wash- 
ington was honored by Congress with a vote of thanks. 
They also ordered a medal to be struck, with suitable 
devices, to perpetuate the remembrance of the gi'eat event. 
The Massachusetts council and house of representatives 
complimented him in a joint address, in which they ex- 
pressed their good wishes in the following words: "May 
you still go on approved by Heaven, revered by all good 
men, and dreaded by those tyrants who claim their fellow- 
men as their property." 



THE CONTINENTAL CONGRESS AND ITS DOINGS. 

EDMUND OLLIER. 

[While the people of the American colonies were so bitterly resist- 
ing Parliamentary oppression, their representatives in the Continental 
Congress were feeling their way, by slow and cautious steps, towards 
that decisive measure, the declaration of American independence. 
Their action was as important as that of the soldiery who were fighting 



Ollier] the continental CONGRESS. 481 

for liberty in the field, and a condensed statement of it is here requisite. 
We extract some illustrative notes of the doings of the successive 
American Congresses, from 1774 to 1776, from Edmund Ollier's "His- 
tory of the United States," an impartially-written work by an English 
author.] 

Monday, the 5th of September, 1774, was a great and 
important day in the annals of English America. It was 
the day on which the Congress of the United Provinces 
met in solemn session at Philadelphia. The members de- 
puted by the several colonies had been arriving for some 
days, and they greeted one another with enthusiasm as 
the vanguard of liberty in the young Western world. . . . 
The representatives of the provinces were resolved to dis- 
cuss their wrongs in a freely-elected Parliament of their 
own. They were in no mood to pay homage either to the 
English throne or to the English legislature, and they set 
to work without delay to organize a chamber for the effi- 
cient consideration of every subject bearing on the political 
well-being of their widely-separated, but still in some re- 
spects homogeneous, communities. The first meeting took 
place in a tavern, and it was determined to accept the offer 
of the carpenters of Philadelphia, who placed their spacious 
hall at the disposal of the delegates. The number of mem- 
bers was at least fifty-five, including such men as George 
Washington, Samuel and John Adams, Patrick Henry, 
Eichard" Henry Lee, and others of high repute, if not of 
equal renown ; and the colonies represented were eleven. . . . 
The resolution with respect to the voting power of each 
colony was arrived at on the second day of the meet- 
ing, when Patrick Henry, speaking on behalf of Virginia, 
drew forth in long array the many injuries inflicted on 
America by the action of the English Parliament. His 
speech was the first utterance of the Congress after its 
organization. . . . The magnificent oratory of Patrick 
I— V J 41 



482 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ollier 

Henrj" breathed, or rather flashed, a spirit of life into the 
dead assemblage [which had before sat in embarrassed 
silence]. . . . British oppression, he said, had made one 
nation of the several colonies, so that he no longer con- 
sidered himself a Virginian, but an American. Many con- 
tradictory opinions were expressed ; but in the end the 
matter was settled in the way indicated by Henry [namely, 
to consider the colonies as a federation of independent 
States, with democratical representation, each State to 
have a voice in accordance with the numbers of its popu- 
lation]. , . . 

The Continental Congress sat eight weeks. On the 26th 
of October it was dissolved, after having recommended the 
appointment of a similar assembly, to meet on the 10th 
of May following unless a redress of grievances had been 
obtained ere then; and, to further the creation of this 
second Congress, it was recommended that all the colonies 
should elect deputies as soon as possible. Thus ended a 
most important exj^eriment in American legislation. That 
experiment must be i-egai'ded as one of the great turning- 
points in the history of the United States. The assembling 
of a Congress representing most of the colonies was a 
plain assertion of national existence, and foreshadowed the 
nature of that independent government which was clearly 
coming on. The scattered forces of Anglo-American life 
were concentrated in a great assembly which embodied 
the will of many distinct communities. The old divisions 
and jealousies were to some extent healed ; a country was 
slowly forming itself out of the chaos of discordant settle- 
ments. . . . As Patrick Henry observed, the oppression of 
the English government had effaced the boundaries of the 
several States, and a common pressure on the freedom and 
well-being of all had compacted the diffused and straggling 
life of the colonies into an intense and indivisible force. 



Ollier] the continental CONGRESS. 483 

The debates in Congress had proved, on a grander scale 
than had j-et been seen, that the Americans possessed a 
large amount of debating power, and the genius of states- 
manship in no stinted measure. Chatham himself — an 
authority not easily to be surpassed — declared that the 
delegates assembled at Philadelphia were, in solidity of 
reasoning, force of sagacity, and wisdom of conduct, second 
to no human assembly of which history has preserved the 
memorial. Sweeping and facile statements of this char- 
acter were very much in the taste of the eighteenth 
century, but in this particular instance the compliment 
involved no great exaggeration. 

[Yet the petition of the Congress to the king, presented by Franklin 
and the agents of Massachusetts, proved futile. " The king remained 
lirm in his policy of simple and unrelieved coercion." Efforts were 
made in favor of conciliatory measures, but George III. was not to be 
moved from his resolve to force the colonists into submission to his 
will. The proposition to remove the troops was negatived, reinforce- 
ments were ordered, and General Gage was subsequently invested with 
almost dictatorial powers. In the Congress of 1775, which met after 
the war had actually broken out, much timidity was displayed, though 
many of the bold spirits of the preceding Congress were present.] 

Franklin, who was by this time back at Philadelphia, 
was again directing his attention to the more effective 
confederation of the colonies. Eeverting in some meas- 
ure to his Albany scheme of 1754, he submitted to Con- 
gress a plan for uniting the colonies in one nation. Each 
colony was to have its own Parliament, and the right to 
amend its own laws and constitution whenever it pleased ; 
and the Federal government was to attend to affairs of 
national importance, and to govern the waste lands. Con- 
gress was to consist of but one legislative body, to be 
chosen annually, and one of its committees was to wield 
the executive power. . . - Some members of Congress, 



484 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ollier 

however, were far in advance of the collective sentiment. 
John Adams, in particular, was for at once establishing a 
constitution and a general government. . . . When Con- 
gress adjourned on the 1st of August, nothing had been 
settled in principle ; yet a great many steps had been 
taken which made it all the less likely that the quarrel 
would be compromised, — all the more probable that a 
violent separation would take place. . . . 

The Continental Congress reassembled on the 13th of 
September ; but the spirit of hesitation which had per- 
plexed its counsels before still continued in an unabated 
degree. Dickinson, of Pennsylvania, exercised a great 
influence over the deliberations of the Federal body, and 
his love of moderation was carried, in the opinion of the 
more extreme, to the point of timidity. . . . 

The king's proclamation, denouncing the American mal- 
contents as rebels, and requiring all loyal subjects to trans- 
mit information of traitorous designs to one of the secre- 
taries of state, reached the New World a few weeks after 
its jjublication in England, which was on the 23d of Au- 
gust. It was received in New Eno-land with ano-er and 
derision, and deepened the resolve of all the popular 
leaders to declare the independence of the country. . . . 

It was the 1st of November when the proclamation 
became known to the Continental Congress at Philadel- 
phia. Abandoning their mood of hesitation, the delegates 
now resolved to act on the petitions of those provinces 
which desired to institute governments of their own. 
Wentworth, the governor of New Hampshire, having left 
his post, the people of that colony requested of Congress 
that they might be allowed to provide for the administra- 
tion of their afi'airs, which had fallen into extreme dis- 
order ; and the prayer was granted. South Carolina was 
permitted to act in the same way. In both cases, the 



Ollier] the continental CONGRESS. 4S5 

new governments were to exist only during the continu- 
ance of the dispute between Great Britain and her Ameri- 
can possessions ; but it must by this time have been almost 
universally perceived that the approaching struggle could 
eventuate in nothing but the entire independence of 
America or its complete subjugation. 

[The Pennsylvania Assembly still preserved an attitude of loyalty 
to the king. Delaware, New Jersey, and Maryland followed the ex- 
ample of Pennsylvania. In New York much loyalty was professed. 
The strong seats of rebellious sentiment were New England and Vir- 
ginia, and some of the more southern provinces. Franklin, who had 
broken with the Pennsylvania Assembly and declined to take the 
seat to which he had been elected, now stimulated Thomas Paine, 
who had come to America at his suggestion, to the writing of those 
vigorous democratic pamphlets which did so much towards inspiring 
the people with patriotic sentiments.] 

. As the Pennsylvania legislature hesitated, the Conti- 
nental Congress grew more determined and resolute. It 
empowered a secret committee to import gunpowder, 
field-pieces, and small-arms, and to export provisions and 
produce to the foreign West Indies in exchange for these 
materials of war. It adopted rules for the government 
of the American navy, which as yet had scarcel}' an ex- 
istence except in design ; directed the enlistment of two 
battalions of marines; authorized the colonists to seize all 
ships employed as carriers for the British fleet or army; 
and sanctioned tribunals for the confiscation of their car- 
goes. It was proposed by a Maryland delegate — who cer- 
tainly went far beyond the feeling generally prevalent 
in his province — that envoys should be sent to France, 
with conditional instructions ; but the motion was rejected. 
Nevertheless Harrison, Franklin, Johnson, Dickinson, and 
Jay were appointed a secret committee for corresponding 
with any persons in Great Britain, Ireland, and other 
I. 41* 



^86 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ollier 

parts of the world, who might be favorable to the Ameri- 
can cause ; and funds were appropriated for the payment 
of agents. These were all acts practically establishing an 
independent government, though the absolute declaration 
of independence was still delayed. The leaders of the 
popular party had already declared that the people are 
the source and oi-igin of power; and this docti'ine grew 
in favor with all who supported colonial rights. . . . 

In December the Continental Congress determined to 
build thirteen ships of war and to establish a naval depart- 
ment. . . . This was another and very important step 
towards the creation of a national government totally dis- 
tinct from that of the parent state. Still another was the 
opening of negotiations with foreign powers. . . . Towards 
the end of the year, De Bonvouloir, the emissary of Ver- 
gennes [of France], arrived in Philadelphia, and had sev- 
eral conferences with Franklin and the other members of 
the secret committee. The I'csult of these interviews was 
that the Frenchman gave the committee to understand, 
without making an exact promise to that effect, that his 
king would aid them on certain conditions ; and that the 
committee made it very clear to the Frenchman that they 
would be glad of such aid in the furtherance of their de- 
signs, though they still kept up the farce of pretending 
that they were even yet indisposed to sever their connec- 
tion with England and with the English crown. . . . 

By the 1st of January, 1776, Washington had, by ex- 
traordinary exertions, got together a new Continental 
army in front of Boston, — an army of less than ten thou- 
sand men, ill appointed, and not well disciplined. . . . 
With the new year an emblematical banner was unfurled 
over the troops. It displayed thirteen alternate red and 
white stripes (indicative of the thirteen united colonies), 
and in the corner the red and white crosses of St. George 



Ollier] the continental CONGRESS. 487 

and St. Andrew on a blue ground. The desire for com- 
plete independence was expressed with a more undisguised 
frankness, and Washington openly declared his opinion 
that it was a necessity of the time. 

[This feeling was strongly aided by Thomas Paine's treatise, named 
" Common Sense" by Dr. Rush of Philadelphia, and expressing in 
clear and forcible statement the most radical democratic opinions.] 

However disputable some of Paine's arguments may 
have been, they were admirably calculated to produce a 
powerful effect in America, and to influence in the desired 
direction many who might still be inclined, from whatever 
cause, to hang back. Some, however, were a little alarmed 
at the boldness of the proposals, and Wilson, of Pennsyl- 
vania, moved in Congress for the appointment of a com- 
mittee to explain to their constituents and to the world 
the present intentions of the colonial representatives re- 
specting independence. In opposition to this suggestion, 
Samuel Adams insisted that Congress had already been 
explicit enough ; but Wilson carried his motion. . . . Con- 
gi'ess was timid about taking so extreme a step as a decla- 
ration of independence, but was none the less advancing 
cautiously towards that end. . . . The state of war was 
perfect; independence was all but complete. The United 
Colonies wanted but little to convert them into the United 
States. 

[Meanwhile, France and Spain, while avowedly friendly to Eng- 
land, covertly wished to injure her, and appropriated a sum of money 
amounting to nearly a million dollars for the purchase of military 
stores to be secretly transmitted to America. Turgot, the French min- 
ister of finance, advocated entire freedom of trade, and this suggestion 
was taken up by Congress and debated on the 16th of February. On 
the 6th of April it was resolved " that the commerce of the thirteen 
United Colonies should be thrown open to all nations, excepting the 
subjects of Great Britain. Henceforth there were to be no custom- 



488 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ollier 

houses ; exports and imports were to be alike free from all restrictions 
and from all taxation." 

Commissioners were sent to Canada, to endeavor to bring that prov- 
ince into union of sentiment with the other colonies, — an eifort which 
failed through the failure of the invading army. Privateering was 
authorized, and quickly became active. The king was described in a 
Congressional resolution as having " rejected their petitions with scorn 
and contempt." Among other acts, it was resolved that thereafter no 
slaves should be imported into the United Colonies.] 

Independence was close at hand ; but a further period 
of doubt, of hesitation, and of distracted counsels had yet 
to be passed through. During the debate on the proposal 
to authorize privateering, Franklin had openly avowed his 
opinion that the measure ought to be preceded by a decla- 
ration of war against Great Britain as a foreign power. 
But to the majority this seemed to be moving too fast, 
thougl\ only a small number of enthusiasts continued to 
believe in the possibility of the old political conditions 
being restored. . . . Samuel Adams, in particular, de- 
nounced the policy of delay. "Is not America," he asked 
in Congress, "already independent? Why not, then, de- 
clare it ?" No foreign power, he argued, could consistently 
yield comfort to rebels, or enter into any kind of treaty 
with the insurgent colonies, until they had separated 
themselves from Great Britain. ... It was with perfect 
truth that Samuel Adams spoke of America as practically 
independent. To throw off its allegiance in terms was 
the most honest, and probably by this time the most 
politic, course which the colonists could pursue. 

[The Southern colonies had now become as extreme in their viewss 
as the Northern. South Carolina adopted its famous rattlesnake flag, 
ordered Sullivan's Island to be fortified, and on March 21 adopted a 
constitution which created two legislative bodies and the other essen- 
tials of government. John Rutledge delivered vigorously-radical ad- 
dresses. North Carolina went still further, and on the 12ih of April 



Ollier] the continental CONGRESS. 489 

empowered her representatives to vote for imlopendence. South Caro- 
lina followed this lead on the 23d of April, Chief-Justice Drayton de- 
claring that the government of the province was independent of that 
of Great Britain. Ehode Island, on the 4th of May, passed an act 
freeing its people from allegiance to the king. John Adams's resolu- 
tion, offered a year before, to empower any of the colonies to create a 
constitution for itself, was passed on the 10th of May. On the 6th of 
this month the House of Burgesses of Virginia declared that their an- 
cient constitution had been subverted, and dissolved the Assembly. It 
was immediately succeeded by a convention which declared that Vir- 
ginia had no alternative left but an abject submission or a complete 
separation. The country was therefore, from that time forward, to 
govern itself, form foreign alliances, and promote a confederation 
of the colonies. Patrick Henry, James Madison, and George Mason 
were the leading members of a committee appointed to prepare a decla- 
ration of rights and a plan of government. Of the act introduced by 
this committee, and passed, we give the leading sentiments.] 

"All men are by nature equally free, and have inherent 
rights, of which, when they enter into a state of society, 
they cannot, by any compact, deprive or divest their pos- 
terity : namely, the enjoyment of life and liberty, with 
the means of acquiring and possessing property, and pur- 
suing and obtaining happiness and safety. All power is 
vested in, and consequently derived from, the people; 
magistrates are their trustees and servants, and at all 
times amenable to them. Government is, or ought to be, 
instituted for the common benefit and securit}^ of the 
people, nation, or community ; and whenever anj' govern- 
ment shall be found inadequate or contrary to these pur- 
poses, a majority of the community hath an indul)itable, 
inalienable, and indefeasible right to reform, alter, or 
abohsh it, in such a manner as shall be judged most con- 
ducive to the common weal. Public services not being de- 
scendible, neither ought the offices of magistrate, legislator, 
or judge to be hereditary. . . . All men having sufficient 
evidence of permanent common interest with, or attach- 



490 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Olliep. 

ment to, the commuiiit}', have the right of suffrage, and 
cannot be taxed or deprived of their property for public 
uses without their own consent or that of their representa- 
tives so elected, nor bound by any law to which they have 
not in like manner assented for the public good. . . . No 
man ought to be deprived of liber t}-, except by the law 
of the land or the judgment of his peers ; and the ancient 
trial by jury ought to be held sacred. ... A well-regulated 
militia, composed of the body of the people, trained to 
anus, is the proper, natural, and safe defence of a free 
state; standing armies in times of peace should be avoided 
as dangerous to libei-ty ; and in all cases the military should 
be under strict subordination to the civil power. . . . No 
free government can be preserved but hy a firm adherence 
to justice, moderation, temperance, frugalit}', and virtue, 
and by frequent recurrence to fundamental principles. Ee- 
ligion can be directed only by reason and conviction, not 
by force or violence ; and, therefore, all men are equally 
entitled to the free exercise of it, according to the dic- 
tates of conscience ; and it is the natural duty of all to 
practise Christian forbearance, love, and charity towards 
each other." 

[This important declaration of principles, with John Adams's resolu- 
tion tending to a separation from Great Britain, had a powerful effect 
on the Pennsylvania Assembly, which receded from its position of 
loyalty to the crown and on the 6th of June sent more liberal instruc- 
tions to its delegates in Congress.] 

On the very next day, Eichard Henry Lee, of Yirginia, 
in the name and with the special authority of that prov- 
ince, submitted to Congress a set of resolutions afiirming 
that the United Colonies were, and of right ought to be, 
free and independent states ; that they were absolved from 
all allegiance to the British crown; that all political con- 
nection between them and Great Britain was, and ought 



Olliek] the continental CONGRESS. 491 

to be, totally dissolved ; that it was expedient forthwith 
to take the most effectual measures for forming foreign 
alliances ; and that a plan of confederation should be pre- 
pared, and transmitted to the respective colonies for their 
consideration and approbation. The questions then raised 
were first considered on the 8th. Tlie speeches were re- 
sumed on the 10th, and it was then resolved, after further 
discussion, to postpone the debate for three weeks, and in 
the mean time to appoint a committee which should draw 
up a declaration in harmony with what had been proposed. 

[Virginia followed her declaration of principles by the formation of 
a constitution, which was a virtual declaration of independence. Con- 
necticut and Delaware quickly followed, and New Hampshire, on June 
15, resolved that the Thirteen United Colonies should be declared a 
free and independent state. Massachusetts declared in favor of com- 
plete separation from Great Britain. New York required more caution, 
on account of the approach of the British fleet, yet it, too, declared 
for separation. Somewhat similar action was taken in New Jersey, 
Pennsylvania, and Maryland.] 

All these local movements prepared the way for the 
great act of the Continental Congress which was to make 
the 4th of July, 1776, one of the most memorable dates in 
the history of the world. . . . The question of declaring 
the complete independence of the colonies [moved by 
Richard Henry Lee] was resumed on the 1st of July, when 
about fifty-one delegates appeared in their places. By this 
time the opinion in favor of separation was nearly unan- 
imous. . . . Before the great business of the day came on, 
a letter was read from Washington, giving a very bad 
account of his forces at New York. The accumulated dis- 
asters of the invading army in Canada were also known ; 
and news had been received of the threatening movement 
of Parker and Clinton against Charleston, but not of its 
defeat. The prospects of the infant republic, whose birth 



492 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ollier 

was about to be formally announced to the world, were, 
therefore, far from encouraging ; yet the ftiith of those 
daring statesmen in the force and vitality of their idea 
was sufficient to triumph over all discouragements and all 
advei'se fortunes. 

[The first speaker was John Adams, who had seconded Lee's resolu- 
tion, and who recapitulated the arguments in favor of a declaration of 
independence. He was replied to by Dickinson, of Pennsylvania, who, 
though patriotic, thought the movement injudicious. A long and im- 
passioned debate followed, after which action was postponed till the 
following day. On putting the resolution to vote, it was passed by a 
majority of the delegates of all the colonies, with the exception of 
New York, which had lacked time to express its wishes. The sanc- 
tion of New York was given a week afterwards.] 

John Adams, writing to his wife at Boston, on the 3d 
of July, to communicate to her the grand event in which 
he had acted so important a part, hailed that second day 
of July, 1776, as the most memorable epoch in the history 
of America. " I am apt to believe," he said, " that it will 
be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great an- 
niversary festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the 
day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God 
Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and 
parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, 
and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the 
other, from this time forward, for evermore. You will 
think me transported by enthusiasm, but I am not. I am 
well aware of the toil, and blood, and treasure that it will 
cost us to maintain this declaration and support and defend 
these states. Yet, through all the gloom, I can see the 
rays of ravishing light and glory. I can see that the end 
is more than worth all the means, and that posterity will 
triumph in that day's transaction, even though we should 
rue it, which I trust in God we shall not." . . . 




READING THE DECLARATION TO THE PEOPLE. 



Ollier] the continental CONGRESS. 493 

The committee for drawing up the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence had intrusted that task to Thomas Jefferson, 
who, though at that time only thirty-three years of age, 
— between seven and eight years younger than John 
Adams, and a mere juvenile as compared with Franklin, 
both of whom were on the committee, — was chosen for a 
work of great difficulty and importance, because he was 
held to possess a singular felicity in the expression of 
popular ideas (as evinced in j^revious state papers), and 
because he represented the province of Virginia, the oldest 
of the Anglo-American colonies. Jefferson, having pro- 
duced the required document, reported it to the House on 
the 28th of June, when it was read, and ordered to lie on 
the table. After the conclusion of the debate on the reso- 
lution of independence on the 2d of July, the Declaration 
was passed under review. During the remainder of that 
day and the two next, this remarkable production was 
very closely considered and sifted, and several alterations 
were made in it. 

[Several changes had been made in the original draft by the com- 
mittee, though just what they were is not known. The principal 
changes made by Congress were the omission of those sentences which 
reflected upon the English people, and the striking out of a clause 
which severely reprobated the slave-trade.] 

The debate on the proposed Declaration came to a tei'- 
mination on the evening of the 4th of July. The docu- 
ment was then reported by the committee, agreed to by 
the House, and signed by every member present, except 
Dickinson. 

[The signature of New York was not given till several days later, 
and a New Hampshire member, Matthew Thornton, was permitted to 
append his signature on November 4, four months after the signing.] 

It will not at this day be denied by many, even on the 
I 42 



494 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ollier 

English side of the Atlantic, that the Declaration was a 
work of great power, that it had a large basis of truth, 
that it appealed; in noble and strenuous language, to the 
very highest principles of political right and virtue. Its 
crowning glory is that it did this in no Utopian spirit, in 
no mood of wild and vindictive change, but with decorum, 
with dignity, with tenderness, and with sense. English- 
men, who regret the quarrel out of which this supreme 
act of renunciation arose, may yet reflect, with a just sat- 
isfaction and no ungenerous pride, that the root of all these 
principles is to be found in the traditions of a thousand 
years of English political life. Jefferson did but apply to 
novel circumstances the general ideas of popular freedom 
which had long been illustrated in the old country. George 
III. had endeavored to introduce into the administration 
of affairs a species of G-erman absolutism, distasteful alike 
to Englishmen at home and to their descendants in Amer- 
ica. The Declaration of Independence was the final reply 
of Americans to the ill-judged and ignorant attempt. Its 
effect on Europe was immense. It helped, in a very con- 
siderable degree, to make the French Eevolution ; it even 
influenced England. Doubtless it is an exaggeration to 
say that, but for the success of the Americans, England 
would have been enslaved. . . . But the example of 
America strengthened the liberal party in the mother- 
country, and guaranteed the certainty of reform. This is 
why the great production of Jefferson should have as much 
interest for English as for American minds. . . . 

Undoubtedly, no more important act has ever been per- 
formed. From that day forward — from that memorable 
4th of July, 1776 — the Eepublic of English America as- 
sumed a distinct and tangible existence. The United Col- 
onies became the United States. George III. was formally 
deposed in thirteen provinces of his empire, and some 



Lawrence] AMERICA IIV 1776. 495 

millions of his subjects became foreigners. A new chapter 
in the annals of the human race had been opened, and it 
was as yet too early .to forecast with any certainty whether 
that chapter was to be mainly characterized bj- weal or 
woe. 



AMERICA IN 1776. 

EUGENE LAWRENCE. 

[Before completing our historical review of the colonial period of 
America, a description of the general condition of the colonies at the 
close of this era will be of interest, as indicative of the work in nation- 
making which had been achieved within the less than two centuries 
since the settlement of the British colonies. We select from Harper 
& Brothers' "First Century of the Republic" some passages from 
Eugene Lawrence's ably-written paper on " Colonial Progress."] 

Fifty-one doubtful and divided men, of infinite variety 
in opinions, education, and character, met in the hot days 
of July. 1776, in that plain room at Philadelphia whei-e 
was decided the chief event of modern history, to found a 
republic. They were about to reverse all the inculcations 
of recent experience, and to enter at once upon a new era 
of uncertainty. From all the models of the past they 
could borrow little, and they ovei'leaped barriers that had 
affrighted all former legislators. ISTot Cromwell and Hamp- 
den, not the plebeians of Eonie and the Demos of Athens, 
not the Eepublicans of Yenice nor the Calvinists of Hol- 
land and Geneva, had ventured upon that tremendous 
stride in human progress that would alone satisfy the re- 
formers of America. Educated in the strict conceptions 
of rank and caste which even Massachusetts had culti- 
vated, and Virginia carried to a ludicrous extreme, they 



496 AMERICAN HISTORY. [La\vre>'ce 

threw aside the artificial distinction forever, and declared 
all men equal. ... 

At the founding of the republic the colonists were ac- 
customed to boast that their territory extended fifteen 
hundred miles in length, and was alread}^ the seat of a 
powerful nation. But of this vast expanse the larger part 
even along the sea-coast was still an uninhabited wilder- 
ness. Although more than a century and a half had 
passed since the first settlements in Massachusetts and 
Virginia, onh^ a thin line of insignificant towns and vil- 
lages reached from Maine to Georgia. In the century 
since the Declaration of Independence a whole continent 
has been seamed with railroads and filled with people; but 
the slow growth of the preceding century had scarcel}' 
disturbed the reign of the savage on his native plains. 
On the coast the province of Maine possessed only a few 
towns, and an almost unbroken solitude spread from Port- 
land to the St. Lawrence. A few hardy settlers were just 
founding a State among the Green Mountains destined to 
be the home of a spotless freedom. In New York, still 
inferior to several of its fellow-colonies in population, the 
cultivated portions were confined to the bay and shores 
of the Hudson. The rich fields of the Genesee Yalley 
and the Mohawk were famous already, but the savages 
had checked the course of settlement. . . . Pennsylvania, 
a frontier State, comparatively populous and wealthy, pro- 
tected Xew Jersey and Delaware from their assaults ; but 
Pittsburg was still only a military post, and the larger 
part of the population of the colony was gathered in the 
neighborhood of the capital. Woods, mountains, and 
morasses filled up that fair region where now the immense 
wealth of coal and iron has produced the Birmingham of 
America. 

The Southern colonies had grown with more rapidity 



Lawrence] AMERICA IN 1776. 497 

in population and wealth than New York and Pennsyl- 
vania. Virginia and the Carolinas had extended their 
settlements westward far into the interior. Some emi- 
gi-ants had even wandered to western Tennessee. Daniel 
Boone had led the way to Kentucky. A few English or 
Americans had colonized Natchez, on the Mississippi. But 
the settlers in Kentucky and Tennessee lived with rifle in 
hand, seldom safe from the attacks of the natives, and 
were to form in the war of independence that admirable 
corps of riflemen and sharp-shooters who were noted for 
their courage and skill from the siege of Boston to the 
fall of Cornwallis. The Virginians were settled in the 
Tennessee mountains long before the people of New York 
had ventured to build a village on the shores of Lake Erie 
or the Pennsylvanians ci'ossed the Alleghanies. But still 
even Virginia is represented to us about this period as 
in great part a wilderness. ... In the North the line of 
cultivated country must be drawn along the shores of the 
Hudson Eiver, omitting the dispersed settlements in two 
or three inland districts. The Delaware and a distance of 
perhaps fifty miles to the westward included all the wealth 
and population of Pennsylvania. The Alleghanies infolded 
the civilized portions of Virginia, and North and South 
Carolina cannot be said to have reached beyond their 
mountains. So slowly had the people of North America 
made their way from the sea-coast. . . . 

[Of the inland country very little was known, while the region 
beyond the Mississippi was "a land of fable, where countless hosts 
of savages were believed to rule over endless plains and to engage in 
ceaseless battles." Long afterwards it Was supposed that the vvatei-s 
of the Missouri might extend to the Pacific] 

Within the cultivated district a population usually, but 
probably en-oneously, estimated at three millions were 
thinly scattered over a narrow strip of land. The number 

l.—gg 42* 



498 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lawrence 

can scarcely be maintained. The New England colonies 
could have had not more than eight hundred thousand in- 
habitants ; the middle colonies as many more ; the South- 
ern a little over a million. New York had a population of 
two hundred and forty-eight thousand, and was surpassed 
by Yirginia, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, Marjiand, and 
was at least equalled, if not exceeded, by North Carolina. 
Its gi'owth had been singularly slow. The small popu- 
lation of the Union was composed of different races and 
of almost hostile communities. There was a lasting feud 
between the Dutch at Albany and the people of New 
England. . . . The Germans settled in Pennsylvania re- 
tained their national customs and language, and were 
almost an alien race. Huguenot colonies existed in sev- 
eral portions of the country. The north of Ireland had 
poured forth a stream of emigrants. Swedish settlements 
attracted the notice of Kalm along the Delaware. In 
North Carolina a clan of Highlanders had brought to the 
New World an intense loyalty and an extreme ignorance. 
The divisions of race and language offered a strong obsta- 
cle to any j)erfect union of the different colonies. But a 
still more sti-iking opposition existed in the political insti- 
tutions of the various sections. In the South, royalty, 
aristocracy, and the worst form of human slavery had 
grown up together. In no part of the world were the dis- 
tinctions of rank more closely observed, or mechanical 
and agricultural industry more perfectly contemned. In 
New England the institutions were democratic, and honest 
labor was thought no shame. In the South episcopacy 
was rigidly established by law ; in New England a tolerant 
Puritanism had succeeded the persecuting spirit'of Cotton 
Mather and Winthrop. . . . 

In the course of a century, within their narrow fringe 
of country the colonists had transformed the wilderness 



Lawrence] AMERICA IN 1776. 499 

into a fertile and productive territory. Agriculture was 
their favorite pursuit. Travellers from Europe were 
struck with the skill with which they cultivated the rich 
and abundant soil, the fine farm-houses that filled the 
landscape, fhe barns overflowing with harvests, the cattle, 
the sheep. The Northern and middle colonies were famous 
for sheep and corn. Pennsj'lvania was the granarj- of 
the nation. In New Jersey the fine farms that spread 
from Trenton to Elizabethtown excited the admiration 
of the scientific Kalm. Long Island was the garden of 
America, and all along the valleys opening upon the Hud- 
son the Dutch and Huguenot colonists had acquired ease 
and opulence by a careful agriculture. The farm-houses, 
usually built of stone, with tall roofs and narrow windows, 
were scenes of intelligent industry. While the young 
men labored in the fields, the mothers and daughters spun 
wool and flax and prepared a large part of the clothing 
of the family. The farm-house was a manufactory for all 
the articles of daily use. Even nails were hammered out 
in the winter, and the farmer was his own mechanic. A 
school and a church were provided for almost every vil- 
lage. Few children were left untaught by the Dutch 
dominie, who was sometimes paid in wampum, or the 
New England student, who lived among his patrons, and 
was not always fed upon the daintiest fare. . . . 

The progress of agriculture at the South was even more 
rapid and remarkable than at the North. The wilderness 
was swiftly converted into a productive region. The coast 
from St. Mary's to the Delaware, with its inland country, 
became within a century the most valuable portion of the 
earth. Its products were eagerly sought for in all the 
capitals of Europe, and one noxious plant of Virginia had 
supplied mankind with a new vice and a new pleasure. 
. . . Tobacco was in Virijinia the life of trade and inter- 



500 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Lawrence 

course ; prices were estimated in it ; the salaries of the 
clergy were fixed at so many pounds of tobacco. All 
other products of the soil were neglected in order to raise 
the savage plant. Ships from England came over annu- 
ally to gather in the great crops of the lai'ge planters, 
. . . [and] Yirginia grew enormously rich from the sudden 
rise of an artificial taste. 

[Other crops replaced tobacco farther south. In South Carolina 
the cultivation of rice, brought thither in 1694 from Madagascar, had 
become greatly developed. Indigo, sugar, molasses, tar, pitch, were 
other valuable Southern products, but cotton, which was destined to 
assume the place farther south which tobacco then held in Virginia, 
was as yet cultivated only in small quantities for the use of the farmers. 
The commercial restrictions imposed by England acted detrimentally 
upon American agriculture, yet it flourished in spite of them.] 

The commerce of the colonies flourished equally with 
their agriculture. It was chiefly in the Northern colonies 
that ships were built, and that hardy race of sailors formed 
whose courage became renowned in every sea. But the 
English navigation laws weighed heavily upon American 
trade. Its ships were, with a few exceptions, only allowed 
to sail to the ports of G-reat Britain. No foreign ship was 
suffered to enter the American harbors. . . . [Yet] the colo- 
nists contrived to build large numbers of ships, and even 
to sell yearly more than a hundred of them in England. 
The ship-yards of New England were already renowned. 
Boston, New York, and Philadelphia were seats of an im- 
portant trade. On the island of Nantucket the whale- 
fishery had been established that was to prove for a brief 
period a source of great profit and a school of accomplished 
seamen. The spermaceti-whale was still seen along the 
American coast, but the New England whaler had already 
penetrated Hudson Bay, and even pierced the Antarctic. 
... In consequence of the rigid navigation laws, smug- 



Lawrence] AMERICA IN 1776. 50I 

gling prevailed nil along the American coast, and swift 
vessels and daring sailors made their way to the ports of 
France and Spain to bring back valuable cargoes of wine 
and silks. Boston was the chief seat of ship-building, and 
its fast-sailing vessels were sent to the West Indies to be 
exchanged for rum and sugar. In 1743 it was estimated 
that New England employed one thousand ships in its 
trade, besides its fishing-barks. . . . 

The rise of American commerce had seemed wonderful 
to Burke, Barre, and all those EngHshmen who were capa- 
ble of looking beyond the politics of their own narrow 
island ; but no sooner had America become free than its 
trade doubled, and soon rose to what in 1775 would have 
seemed incredible prof)ortions. New York, Boston, and 
Philadelphia became at once large cities, and England was 
enriched by American freedom. . . . 

In manufactures the colonists can be said to have made 
but little progress. The English government had vigor- 
ously forbidden them to attempt to make their own wares. 
A keen watch had been kept over them, and it was resolved 
that they should never be suffered to compete with the 
artisans of England. The governors of the different colo- 
nies w^ere directed to make a careful report to the home 
government of the condition of the colonial manufac- 
tures, in order that they might be effectually destroyed. 
From their authentic but perhaps not always accurate 
survey it is jjossible to form a general conception of the 
slow advance of this branch of labor. South of Connecti- 
cut, we are told, there were scarcely any manufactures : 
the people imported everything that they required from 
Great Britain. Kalm, indeed, found leather made at Beth- 
lehem, in Pennsylvania, as good as the English, and much 
cheaper. He praises the American mechanics ; but, in 
general, we may accept the reports of the governors that 



502 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lawrence 

all manufactured articles emplo3'ed in the family or in 
trade were made abroad. Linens and fine cloths, silks, 
implements of iron and steel, furniture, arms, powder, were 
purchased of the London merchants. But this was not 
always the case in busy New England. Here the jealous 
London traders discovered that iron-foundries and even 
slitting-mills were alreadj^ in operation ; that fur hats were 
manufaetui'ed for exportation in Connecticut and Boston ; 
that the people were beginning to supply their own wants, 
and even to threaten the factories of England with a dan- 
gerous rivalry. The English traders petitioned the gov- 
ernment for relief from this colonial insubordination, and 
Parliament hastened to suppress the poor slitting-mills 
and hat-manufactories of our ancestors by an express law. 
The hatters, who seem to have especially excited the jeal- 
ousy of their London brethren, were forbidden to export 
hats even to the next colony, and were allowed to take 
only two apprentices at a time. Iron and steel works were 
also prohibited. Wool and flax manufactui-es were sup- 
pressed by stringent provisions. American factories were 
declared "nuisances." No wool or manufacture of wool 
could be carried from one colon}" to another; and, what 
was a more extraordinary instance of oppression, no Bible 
was suffered to be printed in America. 

[Pig-iron was produced to some extent in Pennsylvania and some 
other colonies, but for export only, not for manufacture. Coal was 
mined in Virginia. No conception, however, was yet attained of the 
vast stores of mineral wealth whicli slept beneath the ground, and 
which were destined to make the new nation immensely rich within 
a few generations.] 

The chief cities of our ancestors were all scattered along 
the sea-coast. There were no large towns in the interior. 
Albany was still a small village, Schenectady a cluster of 
houses. To those vast inland capitals which have sprung 



Lawrence] AMERICA IN 177G. 503 

up on the lakes and great rivers of the West our country 
offered no parallel. Chicago and St. Louis, the centi-es 
of enormous wealth and unlimited commerce, had yet no 
predecessors. Pleasant villages had sprung up in Xew 
England, JS'ew Jersey, and on the banks of the Hudson, 
but they could pretend to no rivalry with those flourishing 
cities which lined the sea-coast or its estuaries and seemed 
to our ancestors the abodes of luxmy and splendor. Yet 
even jSTew York, Philadelphia, and Boston, extensive as 
thej^ appeared to the colonists, were insignificant towns 
compared to the English capitals, and gave no pi'omise of 
ever approaching that grandeur which seemed to be re- 
served especially for London and Paris. In 1774 the popu- 
lation of New York was perhaps twenty thousand ; that 
of London six hundred thousand. The latter was thirty 
times larger than the other, and in wealth and political 
importance was so infinitely its superior that a comparison 
between them would have been absurd. 

Boston, which has crowned Beacon Hill, pressed over 
the ]S"eck, and even covered with a magnificent quarter a 
large surface that was once the bed of the Charles River, 
was in 1774 a town of fifteen thousand or eighteen thou- 
sand inhabitants, closely confined to the neighborhood of 
the bay. . . . The Boston of 1774, which proclaimed free- 
dom and defied the power of England, would scarcely rank 
to-day among the more important country towns. New 
York was more populous, but it was still confined to the 
narrow point of land below the Park. The thickh- -built 
part of the town lay in the neighborhood of Whitehall. 
Some fine houses lined Broadway and Broad Street, but to 
the west of Bi-oadway green lawns stretched down from 
Trinity and St. Paul's to the water. Trees were planted 
thickly before the houses ; on the roofs railings or balconies 
were placed, and in the summer evenings the people gath- 



504 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lawrence 

ered on the house-tops to catch the cool air. Lamps had 
ah'eady been placed on the streets. Fair villas covered the 
environs, and even the Baroness Eiedesel, who had visited 
in the royal palaces of Europe, was charmed with the 
scenery and homes of the citizens. Extravagance had 
already corrupted the plainer habits of the earlier period. 
The examples of London and Paris had already affected 
the American cities. The people of New York drank fiery 
Madeira, and were noted for their luxury. Broadway was 
thought the most splendid of avenues, although it ended 
at Chambers Street. And twenty years later, when the 
City Hall was built, it was called by Dwight (a good 
scholar) the finest building in America. 

The streets of New York and Boston wei^e usually 
crooked and narrow, but the foresight of Penn had made 
Philadelphia a model of regularity. Market and Broad 
Streets were ample and stately. The city was as populous 
as New York, and perhaps the possessor of more wealth. 
It was the first city on the continent, and the fame of 
Franklin had already given it a European renown. Yet 
Philadelphia when it rebelled against George IIL was only 
an insignificant town, clinging to the banks of the river; 
and New York invited the attack of the chief naval power 
of the world with its hai'bor undefended and its whole 
population exposed to the guns of the enemy's ships. The 
Southern cities were yet of little importance. Baltimore 
was a small town. Yirginia had no large city. Charleston 
had a few thousand inhabitants. Along that immense line 
of sea-coast now covered with populous cities the smallest 
of which would have made the New Yoi'k and Boston of 
our ancestors seem insignificant, only these few and isolated 
centres of commerce had sprung up. The wilderness still 
covered the shores of Long Island, New Jersey, Delaware, 
and the Cai"olinas almost as in the days of Ealeigh. 



Lawrence] AMERICA IX 1776. 505 

To pass from one city to another along this desolate 
shore was, in 1775, a long and difficult journey. Eoads 
had been early built in most of the colonies. In Massa- 
chusetts they were good, except where they passed over 
the hills. In New York a good road ran through Orange 
and Ulster counties to Albany. That between New York 
and Philadelphia was probably tolerable. In the Southern 
colonies but little attention was paid to road-building, and 
even those in the neighborhood of Philadelphia were often 
almost impassable. A stage-coach ran in two days from 
New York to Philadelphia, but the passengers were re- 
quested to cross over the evening before to Powle's Hook, 
that they might set out early in the morning. Sloops 
sailed to Albany in seven or eight days. From Boston to 
New York Avas a tedious journey. In fair weathei- the 
roads of the time were tolerable ; but in winter and spring 
they became little better than quagmires. There was 
therefore but little intercourse between the people of the 
distant colonies, and in winter all communication by land 
and water must have been nearly cut off. . . . 

The Northern cities were usually built of brick or of 
stone, and many of the farm-houses were of the latter 
material. The former had been imported from Holland 
for the first New York buildings ; and even Schenectady. 
a frontier town, was so purely Dutch as to have been early 
decorated with Holland brick. In the country stone was 
easily gathered from the abundant quarries on the Hudson 
or along the New England hills. Many large, low stone 
houses, with lofty roofs and massive windows, may still 
be seen in the rich valleys opening upon the Hudson, 
almost in the same condition in which they wei^e left by 
their Huguenot or Dutch builders, and apparently capable 
of enduring the storms of another century. Brick-making 
was soon introduced into the colonies, and the abundant 
i.-w 43 



506 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lawrence 

forests supplied all the materials for the mechanic. ... A 
general equality in condition was nearly reached. Not 
five men, we are told, in New York and Philadelphia ex- 
pended ten thousand dollars a year upon their families. 
The manners of the people were simple ; their expenses 
moderate. Yet nowhere was labor so well rewarded or 
poverty so rare. . . . Wines and liquors were freely con- 
sumed by our ancestors, and even New England had as 
yet no high repute for temperance. Euni Avas taken as a 
common restorative. The liquor shops of New York had 
long been a public annoyance. In the far-southern colo- 
nies, we are told, the planter began his day with a strong 
glass of spirits, and closed it by carousing, gambling, or 
talking politics in the village tavern. Our ancestors were 
extraordinarily fond of money, if we ma^' trust the judg- 
ment of Washington, who seems to have found too many 
of them willing to improve their fortunes from the re- 
sources of the impoverished community. But in general 
it must be inferred that the standard of public morals was 
not low [as compared with the Europe of that day]. 

[Intellectually the colonists made much progress, and statesmen, 
writers, and scientists appeared who vied with those of Europe. 
Schools for the general population were considerably more numerous 
than in England and France, while several colleges, of a somewhat 
high standard, were established, though they were as yet but poorly 
attended. Several newspapers had been started, the earliest. The News 
Letter of Boston, being founded in 1704. In 1775 four papers were 
printed in each of the cities of Philadelphia, New York, and Boston. 
Books were not wanting. One Boston house had ten thousand volumes 
on its shelves. A public library had been founded by Franklin in 
Philadelphia in 1742. Medical schools and other institutions were in 
operation, and the first steps in most of the great enterprises of later 
days had been taken at the opening of the Eevolution.] 



Jefferson] DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 507 

THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 

THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

[As a fitting epilogue to the history of Colonial America, and pro- 
logue to that of Independent America, we append the highly-impor- 
tant document whose consideration and passage by the Continental 
Congress are described in a preceding article. The committee ap- 
pointed to draw up this paper consisted of Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin 
Franklin, John Adams, Eoger Sherman, and Philip Livingston, but 
its preparation, as there stated, was left by the committee to Jefferson, 
from his supposed peculiar fitness fur the work. Several unimportant, 
and one or two important, changes were made in the original draft as 
presented by him, but as it stands it is very nearly word for word his 
own, and must be ranked for ages to come among the great political 
documents of the world, the Magna Charta of American liberty, or 
perhaps we should saj' of human liberty, — since in the republic of the 
United States the freedom of mankind was first solidly based and per- 
manently assured.] 

When, in the course of human events, it becomes neces- 
sary for one people to dissolve the political bands which 
have connected them with another, and to assume among 
the powers of the earth the separate and equal station to 
which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, 
a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that 
they should declare the causes which impel them to the 
separation. 

We hold these truths to be self-evident : — that all men 
are created equal ; that they are endowed by their Creator 
with certain unalienable rights; that among these are 
life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; that to secure 
these rights, governments are instituted among men, de- 
riving their just powers from the consent of the governed ; 
that whenever any form of government becomes destruc- 
tive of these ends, it is the right of the peojile to alter or 



508 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Jefferson 

to abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its 
foundation on such principles, and organizing its power in 
such form, as to them shall seem most likel}^ to effect their 
safety and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that 
governments long established should not be changed for 
light and transient causes ; and accordingly all experience 
hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer, 
while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by 
abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But 
when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing in- 
variabl}' the same object, evinces a design to reduce them 
under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their dut}', 
to throw off such government, and to provide new guards 
for their future security. Such has been the patient suf- 
ferance of these colonies, and such is now the necessity 
which constrains them to alter their former systems of 
government. The history of the present king of Great 
Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, 
all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute 
tyranny over these states. To prove this, let facts be sub- 
mitted to a candid world. 

He has refused his assent to laws, the most wholesome 
and necessary for the public good. 

He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of imme- 
diate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their 
operation till his assent should be obtained ; and when so 
suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them. 

He has refused to pass other laws for the accommo- 
dation of large districts of people, unless those people 
would relinquish the right of representation in the legis- 
lature, a right inestimable, and formidable to tyrants 
only. 

He has called together legislative bodies at places un- 
usual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of 



Jeffkrson] declaration OF INDEPENDENCE. 509 

their public records, for tlie sole purpose of fatiguing them 
into compliance with his measures. 

He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly, for 
©Imposing, with manly firmness, his invasions on the rights 
of the people. 

He has refused, for a long time after such dissolutions, 
to cause others to be elected; whereby the legislative 
powers, incapable of annihilation, have returned to the 
people at large for their exercise ; the state remaining in 
the mean time exposed to all the danger of invasion from 
without, and convulsions within. 

He has endeavored to prevent the population of these 
states ; for that purpose obstructing the laws for naturali- 
zation of foreigners ; refusing to pass others to encourage 
their migration hither, and raising the conditions of new 
appropriations of lands. 

He has obstructed the administration of justice, by re- 
fusing his assent to laws for establishing judiciary powers. 

He has made judges dependent on his will alone, for the 
tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of 
their salaries. 

He has erected a multitude of new offices, and sent 
hither swarms of officers to hai^ass our people, and eat out 
their substance. 

He has kept among us, in times of peace, standing 
armies, without the consent of our legislatures. 

He has affected to render the military independent of, 
and superior to, the civil power. 

He has combined with othei's to subject us to a juris- 
diction foi'eign to our constitution, and unacknowledged 
by our laws ; giving his assent to their acts of pretended 
legislation : 

For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us : 

For protecting them, by a mock trial, from punishment 



510 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Jefferson 

for any murders which they should commit on the inhab- 
itants of these states : 

For cutting off our trade with all parts of the world : 

For imposing taxes on us without our consent: 

For depriving us, in many cases, of the benefits of trial 
by jury : 

For transporting us beyond seas to be tried for pre- 
tended offences : 

For abolishing the free system of English laws in a 
neighboring province, establishing therein an arbitrary 
government, and enlarging its boundaries, so as to render 
it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing 
the same absolute rule into these colonies : 

For taking away our charters, abolishing our most val- 
uable laws, and altering fundamentall}" the forms of our 
governments : 

For suspending our own legislatures, and declaring 
themselves invested wnth power to legislate for us in all 
cases whatsoever. 

He has abdicated government here, by declaring us out 
of his protection, and waging war against us. 

He has phindered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt 
our towns, and destroyed the lives of our jjeople. 

He is, at this time, transporting large armies of foreign 
mercenaries to complete the works of death, desolation, 
and tyrannj', already begun with circumstances of cruelty 
and perfidy, scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages' 
and totally unworthy the head of a civilized nation. 

He has constrained our fellow-citizens, taken captive on 
the high seas, to bear arms against their country, to be- 
come the executioners of their friends and brethren, or to 
fall themselves by their hands. 

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and 
has endeavored to brins; on the inhabitants of our frontiers 



Jefferson] DECLARATION OF IXDEPEXDENCE. 511 

the merciless Indian savages, "whose known rule of war- 
fare is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes, 
and conditions. 

In every stage of these oppressions we have petitioned 
for redress in the most humble terms: our repeated peti- 
tions have been answered onl}^ by repeated injur}'. 

A prince whose character is thus marked by ever}- act 
which ma}' define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a 
free people. 

Nor have we been wanting in attention to our British 
brethren. We have warned them from time to time of 
attempts made by their legislature to extend an unwar- 
rantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them 
of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement 
here. We have appealed to their native justice and mag- 
nanimity, and we have conjured them, by the ties of our 
common kindred, to disavow these usurpations, which 
would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspon- 
dence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and 
of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the 
necessity which denounces our separation, and hold them, 
as we hold the rest of mankind, enemies in war, in peace, 
friends. 

We, therefore, the representatives of the United States 
of America, in General Congress assembled, appealing to 
the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our 
intentions, do, in the name and by authority of the good 
people of these colonies, solemnly publish and declare that 
these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, FREE 
and IXDEPENDENT STATES ; that they are absolved 
from all allegiance to the British crown; and that all 
political connection between them and the state of Great 
Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved ; and that as 
free and independent states they have full power to levy 



512 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Jefferson 

war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce, 
and to do all other acts and things which independent 
states may of right do. And for the support of this dec- 
laration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine 
Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, 
our fortunes, and our sacred honor. 

John Hancock, President. 

New Hampshire, Josiah Bartlett, "William "Whipple, Mat- 
thew Thornton. Massachusetts., Samuel Adams, John Adams, 
Eobert Treat Paine, Elbridge Gerry. Rhode Island, Ste- 
phen Hopkins, "William Ellery. Connecticut, Eoger Sher- 
man, Samuel Huntington, "William Williams, Oliver "Wol- 
cott. New York, "William Floyd, Philip Livingston, Francis 
Lewis, Lewis Morris. New Jersey, Eichard Stockton, John 
"Witherspoon, Francis Hopkinson, John Hart, Abraham 
Clark. Pennsylvania, Eobert Morris, Benjamin Eush, 
Benjamin Franklin, John Morton, George Clymer, James 
Smith, George Taylor, James "Wilson, George Eoss. Dela- 
ware, Caesar Eodney, George Eead. Maryland, Samuel 
Chase, "William Paca, Thomas Stone, Chai'les Carroll, of 
Carrollton. Virginia, George "Wythe, Eichard Henry Lee, 
Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Harrison, Thomas Nelson, 
junior, Francis Lightfoot Lee, Carter Braxton. North Car- 
olina, "William Hooper, Joseph Hewes, John Penn. South 
Carolina, Edward Eutledge, Thomas Heyward, junior, 
Thomas Lynch, junior, Arthur Middleton. Georgia, Button 
Gwinnett, Lyman Hall, George "Walton. 




GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



PART II. 

INDEPENDENT AMERICA, 



DECISIVE EVENTS 

IN THE STORY OF THE 

GREAT REPUBLIC, 



SECTION VII. 

THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 



PRELIMINARY REMARKS. 

The important action taken by the Continental Con- 
gress in the passage of the Declaration of Independence 
was received with enthusiasm by the people of the newly- 
created United States of America. On the 8th of July the 
independence of the country was proclaimed with great 
solemnity at Philadelphia, and welcomed by the people 
with the greatest exultation, artillery being fired, bonfires 
kindled, and other manifestations of joy displayed. It 
was read to the army in New York on the 11th, and was 
received by them with wild acclamations. That evening 
the statue of King George, which had been erected in 
1770, was dragged through the streets by a party of sol- 
diers, and a resolution taken to convert into bullets the 
lead of which it was made. This riotous proceeding was 
severely rebuked by "Washington, 

7 



8 AMERICAN HISTORY. 

In Baltimore independence was proclaimed amid the 
roar of artillery, while the eflSgy of the king became the 
sport of the populace, and was afterwards burned in the 
public square. In Boston the rejoicings of the peoj)le 
surpassed those in any other section of the country. 
Independence was there proclaimed from the balcony of 
the State-House, in the presence of all the authorities and 
of a great concourse of people. Salutes were fired, the 
troops paraded, the bells were rung, and the people went 
wild with joy, in their excitement tearing to pieces and 
burning all the ensigns of royalty. A banquet was pre- 
pared for the authorities and the principal inhabitants, at 
which toasts were drunk to the destruction of tyrants, the 
propagation of liberty, and a series of similar sentiments. 
In Virginia great enthusiasm also prevailed, and the con- 
vention passed a number of acts designed to remove every 
vestige of royalty from the public proceedings of the 
commonwealth. 

The passage of this declaration entailed new duties upon 
the people, which would exhaust their powers, legislative 
and military, for years to come. A new government had 
to be formed, on a plan which had never before been ap- 
plied to a country of such extent, and which involved in- 
numerable difficulties. And the independence declared by 
the legislature had to be sustained by the army against 
all the power of the richest and most energetic nation of 
the Europe of that day. Some consideration of the steps 
taken towards the accomplishment of these purposes is 
important as preliminary to the story of the subsequent 
events of the war. 

The resolution of independence had abolished one phase 
of political existence; it had not created a new phase. A 
nation was yet to be made out of the discordant elements 
of the separate colonies. And to this essential purpose 



THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 9 

Congress at once addressed itself. The tie which had 
hitherto held together the colonies was slight and tem- 
porary. It needed to be made strong and permanent. 
Articles of confederation satisfactory to all the States of 
the newly-formed republic needed to be adopted ere the 
American Union could claim the title of a nation. 

A committee was at once appointed by Congress to 
frame such articles. A report was made by this com- 
mittee on the 12th of July. On the 22d the House began 
the consideration of the proj^osed articles, the principal 
subjects of debate being the proportion of money which 
each State should pay into the common treasuxy, and the 
manner of voting in Congress. The financial article, as 
proposed, required each State to pay into the treasury a 
sum in proportion to its total population, exclusive of un- 
taxed Indians. This was objected to on the plea that it 
included slaves, who, properly considered, were property 
and not persons, and that Southern slaves had no more 
right to bo considered in fixing the tax-rate than Northern 
cattle. John Adams took the opposite view, with the 
argument that slaves by their labor added to the wealth 
of the States, and that they had alwaj'S been taken into 
the estimates of taxes by the Southern provinces. The 
question was carried, on this basis, by the votes of the 
Northern delegates, who were in a majority. The other 
article which led to prolonged debate was that concerning 
the voting power of the States in Congress. The original 
report provided that each colony should have but one vote. 
Mr. Chase proposed as a compromise that on financial 
questions each State should have a voice in proportion to 
the number of its inhabitants. Franklin supported this 
proposition, saying that if the States voted equally they 
ought to pay equally. Dr. Witherspoon contended that 
each State should be considered as an individual, with a 



10 AMERICAN HISTORY. 

single vote on all matters. John Adams, on the contrary, 
advocated voting in proportion to numbers. He held that 
the individuality of the States was a mere word ; it was 
the purpose of the Confederacy to weld them, like separate 
pieces of metal, into one common mass. Mr. Wilson, of 
Pennsylvania, ably followed from the same point of view, 
bringing European illustrations to show the danger of 
giving too much separate independence to the members 
of a confederated union. Thus early was brought up that 
burning question of State Eights, as opposed to the su- 
premacy of the Union, which has not yet been definitely 
settled. 

The debate on the Articles of Confederation was con- 
tinued for several months, and the whole subject thor- 
oughly canvassed, standing committees of Congress mean- 
while carrying on the active affairs of the government. 
During this period the several States, in conformity with 
the act previously passed by Congress, busied themselves 
in organizing State governments suitable to the new con- 
dition of affairs. Not for a moment was any thought of 
reproducing a monarchical government entertained. The 
people of America had been republican in sentiment from 
the first, and their political history had been in gr^eat part 
a struggle to reduce the prerogatives of the monarch who 
claimed them as subjects. So much power had been exer- 
cised by the people and their representatives, and so well 
were they schooled in the art of self-government, that the 
change of sovereignty was scarcely perceptible, and very 
little needed to be added to existing conditions to form a 
complete apparatus of government. 

The people were not willing that any one man should 
have the authority to negative the decision of a majority 
of their representatives. Yet long experience had taught 
them that it would be dangerous to lodge all power in the 



THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. \\ 

hands of a single body of men. Some intermediate course 
■was desirable, and after much discussion the difficulty was 
overcome by the formation, in eleven out of the thirteen 
colonies, of a legislature of two branches, whose concur- 
rence should be necessary to the passage of any law. The 
second branch was to consist of a few select persons, 
under the name of senate, or council, adapted to consider 
wisely and calmly the acts passed by the more numerous 
branch of representatives. Georgia and Pennsylvania 
alone adopted legislatures consisting of a single House. 

iNew York and Massachusetts went a step further. 
The former gave to a council composed of the governor 
and the heads of judicial departments, and the latter to 
the governor alone, the power of objecting to any proposed 
law and requiring its reconsideration and passage by a 
two-thirds majority of both Houses to make it operative. 
The objection in Georgia and Pennsylvania to a double 
Assembly arose from the difficulty of creating a higher and 
a lower branch by election from a homogeneous people 
held to lie absolutely equal politically. No distinction of 
rank existed, and distinction of wealth was not admitted 
as a source of political inequality. Ten of the eleven 
States, with legislatures of two branches, ordained the 
election of both hj the people. Maryland had her senate 
chosen by electors, two from each county, elected by the 
people, the senators to hold their seats for five years, while 
the representatives were re-elected annually. By this 
means a senate composed of men of influence and ability 
was obtained. Pennsylvania adopted the expedient of 
publishing bills after the second reading, so that they 
might be considered by ^he people and the sense of the 
inhabitants taken. It was not long, however, before it 
was discovered that this expedient was injudicious, and 
that the single chamber did not work well. A second 



12 AMERICAN HISTORY. 

chamber was therefore added. A similar action was after- 
wards taken by G-eorgia. 

Every State appointed a supreme extcutive, under the 
title either of governor or president. In New York and 
the Eastern States the governors were elected directly by 
the people ; in the other States, by the legislatures. New 
York alone gave the governor the right to act without 
the advice of a council. The jealousy of supreme power 
was so great among the Americans that they surrounded 
their executive officers with checks that proved, in the 
end, more cumbrous than useful. The principle of rota- 
tion in office was strongly insisted upon, frequent elections 
being required, and in some cases it being ordained that 
no office should be held by the same person longer than a 
specified period of time. As a further securit}' for the per- 
manence of republican institutions, all the States agreed 
in prohibiting hereditary honors or distinctions of rank. 
They all, moreover, abolished state rehgions. Some re- 
tained a constitutional distinction between Christians and 
others, so far as the power of holding office was concerned, 
but no sect was permitted legislative precedence, and the 
alliance between church and state was completely broken. 

While the States were thus adopting new constitutions 
and organizing new governments, whose imperfections 
were negatived by the important feature that the people 
retained the power of altering and amending them when- 
ever they chose, the General Congress continued the con- 
sideration of the Articles of Confederation which were to 
combine these separate States into a single nation. The 
debate upon this was very deliberately conducted, and 
sixteen months elapsed before it was ready to be com- 
municated to the States. Three years more elapsed ere 
it was ratified by all the States. The principal objections 
were those which had already been abundantly debated ii. 



THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 13 

Congress, and that of the disposal of the vacant "Western 
lands. This latter question was finally settled by the 
cession of these lands, by the States which claimed them, 
to the Union, for the common good of the people. The 
suffrage-difficulty was overcome by viewing the States as 
individuals and giving them equality of votes. The last 
State to ratify the Articles of Confederation was Maryland, 
on March 1, 1781. The principal powers of Congress, 
as defined by this agreement, were — the sole right of de- 
ciding on peace and war, of sending and receiving am- 
bassadors, of forming treaties and alliances, of regulating 
coinage, of fixing the standard of weights and measures, 
of managing Indian affairs, of estabhshing post-offices, of 
borrowing money or issuing bills on the credit of the 
United States, of raising an army through requisitions 
upon the States, and of forming a navy. It constituted also 
the final court of appeal in disputes between the States. 

This system, though suitable to the conditions then ex- 
isting, was destined to prove inadequate to the political 
requirements of the country after peace had succeeded to 
war. The confederation was little more than a league of 
friendship between the States. While investing Congress 
with many of the powers of sovereignty, it left it destitute 
of all means to enforce its decrees, the States retaining 
important powers which properly belonged to the central 
government. Not many years had passed after the ter- 
mination of the war before it appeared that a radical 
change in the whole system was necessary for the proper 
government of the nation. Yet the Articles of Confeder- 
ation sufficed to hold the States together till the conflict 
had ended, and the wisdom of American legislators could 
be applied to the important duty of organizing a stable 
union, in which the relations of the State and the national 
governments would be properly adjusted, and the American 



14 AMERICAN HISTORY. 

theory of local control of local affairs, and of national con- 
trol of general affairs, could be carried out in all the com- 
plex details of the existence of a great confederated nation. 

As for the means through which the declared indepen- 
dence was to be consummated, and the opposing means 
through which England hoped to reduce her revolted col- 
onies to obedience, there were discouraging circumstances 
on both sides. We have already adverted to the difficulties 
experienced by Washington in making an army out of the 
intractable materials placed in his hands, and of the incon- 
venience arising from the short terms of enlistment of the 
men. There were other disheartening conditions. An 
officer who at that time wrote to. a member of Congress 
presented a deplorable picture of the state of the army : 
" Almost every villany that can disgrace the man, the sol- 
dier, or the citizen is daily practised, without meeting the 
punishment they merit. So many of our officers want 
honor, and so many of our soldiers want virtue, civil, 
social, and military, that nothing but the severest punish- 
ments will keep both from practices that must ruin us. . . . 
Our men are at present only robbers ; that they will soon 
be murderers, unless some are hanged, I have no doubt." 
This is the testimony of a patriotic American, and it is 
confirmed by other statements. 

It was evident that a total change in the military system 
of the country was requisite. Many of the soldiers were 
enlisted for a few months, and none for more than a year, 
and they had no time to learn the business of war. The 
enthusiasm of the militia quickly died out, as it necessa- 
rily always does, and it was remarked by a member of 
Congress that the Americans had lost most of that virtue 
which first drew them to the field, and were sinking into 
an army of mercenaries. They received so little pay, and 
were so ill provided with the necessaries of life, that there 



THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 15 

was some excuse for their acts of plundering. Yet these 
acts were of serious dimensions. Washington spoke of 
them as infamous, and said that no man was secure in his 
effects, and scarcely in his person. Yet he found it impos- 
sible to reduce the soldiers to subordination, under existing 
circumstances. He did his utmost to rouse Congress to 
the importance of long enlistments, but such was the dread 
of a standing army that these demands were as yet un- 
heeded. Congress, indeed, discouraged the formation of 
martial habits, and required that frequent furloughs should 
be granted, " rather than that the endearments of wives 
and children should cease to allure the individuals of our 
army from camps to farms." This was no way to make 
an army, as the law-makers were destined to discover. 
Shortly before the evacuation of New York by General 
"Washington, it was resolved, against considerable opposi- 
tion, to reorganize the army in eighty-eight battalions, to 
be made up of men enlisted for the war. A quota was 
assigned to each State, and, to encourage enlistments, a 
bounty of twenty dollars and one hundred acres of land 
was given to every recruit, with higher bounties to officers. 
A new set of rules for the discipline of the army was at 
the same time adopted. It had become evident that a 
regular army must be formed if success were desired. 

Yet the raising of these new levies proceeded with dis- 
couraging slowness, and meanwhile affairs were going 
from bad to worse. One expedient adopted by Congress 
was an attempt to seduce the Hessian troops from the Brit- 
ish service by the offer of large bounties in land. Yet the 
condition of American affairs after the loss of New York 
was calculated to render all these efforts nugatory. When 
Washington reached the western shore of the Delaware, 
after his retreat through New Jersey, the fortunes of the 
United States were at a very low ebb. The army was 



16 AMERICAN HISTORY. 

greatly reduced in numbers, and the term of all its mem- 
bers would end within a month. Indications looked 
towards its complete disbandment, and a hopeless yield- 
ing of the colonies to the power against which they had 
rebelled. 

"Washington's success at Trenton radically changed this 
depressing state of affairs. The cruelty of the British 
and the Hessians had aroused the people of the occupied 
regions to bitter hatred, and as the Continental army 
gradually regained possession of the State of New Jersey, 
confidence returned, and the depleted ranks were filled up 
with new levies. From that time forward the American 
forces became an army more than in name, and the for- 
tunes of the United States never again sank to so low an 
ebb. 

"While these difficulties existed in America, England had 
not been without her troubles. The doings of the ministry 
had from the first roused a powerful opposition in Parlia- 
ment, and the Earl of Chatham, in particular, arraigned 
the government for injustice to the colonies, deprecated 
the attempt to reduce them by force, and demanded a 
complete removal of the oppressive acts which had driven 
the loyal colonists to rebellion. He was of opinion that 
this course would bring them back to their allegiance; 
but in this he misjudged the sentiments of the Americans, 
as was proved when the ministry afterwards sent out 
commissioners to treat with Congress and the colonies on 
the basis of a redress of grievances. Neither Congress 
nor the people of the States would listen to their pro- 
posals, and they were forced to return without achieving 
their purpose. 

America could be reduced only by force, and this force 
proved difficult to obtain. The service was not popular, 
and recruiting for the American war went on very slowly. 



THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 17 

The British government, hampered by this circumstance, 
looked abroad for aid, offering its money for the men of 
other states. Its great hope "was in Russia, whose empress 
had made some friendly remarks about England which 
were construed into a readiness to furnish troops. An ap- 
plication for twenty thousand infantiy was made, and so 
sure was the British ministry of obtaining them that there 
was sent to Carleton, in Canada, an assurance of speedy 
reinforcements. But the empress Catherine had meant 
nothing of the kind, and she bluntly declined to hire out 
her soldiers as mercenaries. Her i-efusal was so expressed 
as to give great oifence to George III., who found himself 
now obliged to depend on the German principalities for 
aid. He also considered the project of rousing the High- 
landers of North Carolina and the loj'alists of the Middle 
and Southern provinces. 

In the latter part of 1775 the situation of England was 
a grave one. The opponents in Parliament to the action 
of the ministry were numerous, and comprised some of 
the foremost men in that body. The military position 
of the country was still worse. Twenty-eight thousand 
sailors and fifty thousand soldiers had been asked for; 
but these were insufficient for the purposes required, and 
a bill enabling the king to call out the militia, to use in 
America, was passed. 

Yet the need of soldiers was immediate, and application 
was made to various Continental powers, among them 
Holland, where a so-called Scottish brigade had existed 
since early in the seventeenth century. But Holland re- 
fused the use of this body, except for employment in 
Europe. This George III. declined. He had, indeed, ob- 
tained assistance from another quarter. Contracts had 
been made for the enlistment of soldiers in some of the 
petty German states. These were in part secret, but open 
II.— 3 2* 



18 AMERICAN HISTORY. 

negotiations were carried on with the Duke of Brunswick 
and the Landgrave of Ilesse-CasseL The subjects of these 
magnates were bought like so many cattle, it being ar- 
ranged with the duke that every soldier killed should be 
paid for at the rate of the levy-money, and that three 
wounded should be reckoned as one killed. An annual 
subsidy was to be paid. 

The German troops obtained in this discreditable man- 
ner numbered seventeen thousand men. Of these Hesse- 
Cassel supplied twelve thousand, and Brunswick and other 
petty states the remainder. The affair was a disgraceful 
one on both sides, and aroused indignation throughout 
Europe. Frederick the Great, a man not over-scrupulous 
in his own measures, viewed it as an abominable traffic 
in human lives, and it is said that whenever any of these 
hirelings passed through his territory he levied on them 
the usual toll for cattle, saying that they had been sold as 
such. 

Man}^ in England entertained a similar feeling ; yet the 
treaties were ratified by large majorities in Parliament, 
and these disgracefully-obtained troops were shipped to 
America. There the proceeding was viewed with the 
utmost indignation, and served to increase the bitterness 
and determination of the colonists, whose rebellious energy 
was greatly added to by the means thus taken to overcome 
it, and particularly by the measures employed to bring the 
Indians into the conflict in support of the British cause. 
Such was the state of affairs in America and England at 
the period at which we have now arrived. In the Decla- 
ration of Independence America had flung the gauntlet of 
defiance at the feet of the British government, and both 
sides prepared for a stern continuance of the war. 




SEROEAXT JASTKH HKCOVEHS THE FEAG. 



Steele] THE CAPTURE OF NEW YORK. 19 

THE CAPTURE OF LONG ISLAND AND NEW YORK. 

J. D. STEELE. 

[Shortly after the evacuation of Boston, Washington led his army 
to New York, which he feared might be assailed. Sir Henry Clinton 
soon after appeared off Sandy Hook with his fleet, but, finding the place 
guarded, he sailed south, where he met Sir Peter Parker with a large 
fleet. The conjoined fleets now sailed to Charleston, the entrance to 
whose harbor was defended by Fort Sullivan, a rudely-built log for- 
tification, which General Lee declared to be a mere "slaughter-pen," 
and which he was anxious to have abandoned. But the Carolinians 
boldly determined to hold it. On the 28th of June the British ships 
opened a terrible fire upon it. But the porous, spongy palmetto logs 
received the balls without injury, while the fire of the fort riddled the 
ships and swept their decks. Early in the battle the flag was struck 
down by a ball which severed the shaft. In a moment Sergeant Jasper 
leaped over the breastworks, seized the flag, which had fallen on the 
ground outside, tied it to a sponge-shaft, and hoisted it again to its 
place. The battle ended in the fleet's being so shattered that it was 
forced to withdraw. The colonists were overjoyed at the result of this 
their first encounter with the "mistress of the seas." The gallantly- 
defended fort was re-named Fort Moultrie, in honor of its brave com- 
mander. 

The defeated fleet sailed north, and met at Staten Island the fleet of 
General Howe from Halifax and that of Admiral Howe from England. 
They had on board a large army, partly made up of Hessian merce- 
naries, who had been bargained for by the British ministry and handed 
over as slaves by their impecunious rulers to aid in subduing the re- 
volted colonies. It was designed, with this fleet and army, to assail 
and capture New York. 

We select a description of the succeeding events from Dr. J. D. 
Steele's condensed but attractively-written work entitled " Barnes's 
Popular History of the United States."] 

After the evacuation of Boston, Washington thought 
that probably the British would next try to seize New 
York, both on account of its commercial importance and 



20 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Steele 

the strong tory element in that vicinity. He therefore, 
soon after, came to that city. The most vigorous prepa- 
rations were made to complete the fortifications, already 
begun by General Charles Lee. Troops were enlisted for 
three years, and a bounty of ten dollars offered to en- 
courage recruiting. About twenty-seven thousand men 
Avere finally collected. Little over half of these were fit for 
duty. One regiment, we read, had only ninety-seven fire- 
locks and seven bayonets. The officers, many of whom 
were grossly incompetent, wrangled about precedence. 
The soldiers mistook insubordination for independence. 
Sectional jealousies prevailed to such a degree that a let- 
ter of that time reports that the Pennsylvania and New 
England troops were quite as ready to fight each other as 
the enemy. 

The 1st of July, General Howe arrived at Staten Island 
from Halifax. Soon after, he was joined by his brother. 
Admiral Howe, from England, and Clinton, from the de- 
feat of Fort Moultrie. They had thirty thousand men, 
admirably disciplined and equipped ; among them about 
eight thousand of the dreaded Hessians. The fleet, con- 
sisting of ten ships-of-the-line, twenty frigates, and four 
hundred ships and transports, was moored in the bay, 
ready to co-operate. Parliament had authorized the Howes 
to treat with the insurgents. By pi-oclamation they ac- 
cordingly offered pardon for all who would return to their 
allegiance. This document was published by direction 
of Congress, that the people might see what England de- 
manded. An officer was then sent to the American camp 
with a letter addressed to '• George Washington, Esq." 
Washington refused to receive it. The address was after- 
ward changed to " George Washington, &c. &c." The mes- 
senger endeavored to show that this bore any meaning 
which might be desired. But Washington utterly refused 



Steele] THE CAPTURE OF NEW YORK. 21 

any communication which did not distinctly recognize his 
position as commander-in-chief of the American army. 
Lord Howe was evidently desirous of a restoration of 
peace. He solicited an interview with Franklin, an old- 
time friend ; but events had gone too far. England would 
not grant independence, and the colonies would accept 
nothing less. War must settle the question. 

It was not till the last of August that Clinton crossed 
over the Narrows to Long Island. Brooklyn was fortified 
by a series of intrenchments and forts extending from 
Gowanus Bay to Wallabout. Here were stationed about 
nine thousand men, under Generals Sullivan and Stirling. 
About two and a half miles south was a range of wooded 
heights traversed by three roads along which the British 
could advance ; one leading up directly from the Narrows 
and Gravesend to Gowanus Bay, a second from Flatbush, 
and a third, the Jamaica road, cutting through the hills 
by the Bedford and the Jamaica passes. General Greene, 
who was intimately acquainted with the ground, being im- 
fortunately sick, General Putnam was hastily sent over to 
take charge of the defence. General Stirling and General 
Sullivan occupied the' heights, but, by a fatal oversight, 
the Jamaica road was unguarded. The English were not 
slow to take advantage of the opportunity. 

On the eve of the 26th, General Clinton, with Percy 
and Cornwallis, crossed the narrow causeway called Shoe- 
maker's Bridge, over a marsh near New Lots, — where, it is 
said, a single regiment could have barred the way, — and 
before daylight had seized the Bedford and Jamaica passes, 
while the Americans were yet unconscious of his having 
left Flatlands. Meanwhile General Grant moved forward 
along the coast, on the direct road, from the Narrows up 
to the hills at present embraced in Greenwood Cemetery. 
Here there was considerable skirmishing, but Stirling held 



22 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Steele 

him in check. Clinton, pushing down from the hills, now 
fell upon the American left, at Bedford. The sound of 
cannon in their rear filled the Americans with dismay. 
At that moment De Heister, with the Hessians, who had 
already begun to skirmish on the Flatbush road, stormed 
Sullivan's position. Eetreat was the patriots' only hope. 
It was, however, too late. Caught between the Hessians 
and the British, they were driven to and fro, cut down by 
the dragoons, or bayoneted without mercy by the Hessians 
and the Highlanders, who listened to no plea for quarter. 
Some took to the rocks and trees and sold their lives as 
dearly as they could; some broke through and escaped, 
pursued by the grenadiers to the American lines at Fort 
Putnam ; the rest were captured. 

Cornwallis hurried on with his coi'ps to close in upon 
G-eneral Stirling, who was yet unaware of the disaster 
upon his left, at the same time firing two guns as a signal 
for Grant to attack the front. Stirling, with a part of 
Small wood's regiment, composed of the sons of the best 
families of Maryland, turned upon this unexpected foe in 
his rear, determined by a heroic sacrifice to give the rest 
a chance for escape. He accomplished his design ; all his 
companions crossed Gowanus Creek in safety; but he 
himself was captured, and two hundred and fifty-nine of 
the Marylanders lay dead on the field. Washington be- 
held the fight from a neighboring hill, and, wringing his 
hands in agony, exclaimed, " What brave fellows I must 
lose this day!" 

It was a sad augury for the Eepublic which had just 
issued its Declaration of Independence. The British loss 
was but four hundred, and the American nearly two thou- 
sand. Of the latter, one thousand, who were with Gen- 
erals Sullivan and Stirling, were prisoners. The higher 
officers were soon exchanged, but the hard lot of the pri- 



Steele] THE CAPTURE OF NEW YORK. 23 

vates and lower oflScers made the fate of those who per- 
ished in battle to be envied. Numbers were confined in 
the sugar-house and the old hulks at Wallabout, where 
afterward so many other American prisoners suffered 
untold agonies. Here, festering with disease, perishing 
with famine, and loathsome with filth, deprived of fresh 
air, water, and every necessary of life, eleven thousand 
Americans, it is said, found an untimely grave ere the 
war was over. 

Had Howe attacked the works at Brooklyn immedi- 
ately, the Americans would probably have been utterly 
destroyed. Fortunately, he delayed for the fleet to co- 
operate ; but an adverse wind prevented. For two days 
the patriots lay helpless, awaiting the assault. On the 
second night after the battle there was a dense fog on the 
Brooklyn side, while in New York the weather was clear. 
A little before midnight, the Americans moved silently 
down to the shore and commenced to cross the river, near 
what is now the Fulton Ferry. Everything was planned 
with Washington's peculiar precision. The guards, sen- 
tinels, and outer lines were ordered to remain quietly at 
their posts till the very last, that the enemy might suspect 
no movement. The stifled murmur of the camp, as each 
man took his place in silence for the march to the river- 
side, gradually died away in the distance. Suddenly the 
roar of a cannon burst upon the night-air. " The eff'ect," 
says an Amei-ican who was present, " was at once alarming 
and sublime. If the explosion was within our own lines, 
the gun was probably discharged in the act of spiking it, 
and could have been no less a matter of speculation to the 
enemy than to ourselves." The mystery of that midnight 
gun remains still unexplained. Fortunately, it failed to 
rouse the Bi-itish camp. Startled by this unexpected con- 
tre-temps, the men reached the shore. Washington, feeling 



24 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Steele 

the urgent necessity for despatch^ sent one of his aides-de- 
camp to hurry up the troops in march. By mistake he 
gave the order to all who had been left behind. In the 
midst of embarrassment and confusion at the ferry, caused 
by the change of tide and of wind, which beat back the 
sail-boats, the whole rear-guard arrived. " Good God, 
General Mitflin!" cried Washington, "I fear you have 
ruined us by so unseasonably withdrawing the troops from 
the advance lines." Mifflin somewhat warmly explained 
that he had only followed orders. " It is a dreadful mis- 
take," exclaimed Washington ; " and unless you can regain 
the picket-lines before your absence is discovered, the 
most disastrous consequences may follow." Mifflin has- 
tened back, but again the dense fog and Providence had 
favored them, so that, though neai'ly an hour had inter- 
vened, the desertion of their posts had not been noticed 
by the enemy. At length their own time came, and the 
last boat pulled from the shore. The strain of the night 
w^as over, and the army was saved. " What with the 
greatness of the stake, the darkness of the night, the 
uncertainty of the design, and the extreme hazard of the 
issue," says one, " it would be difficult to conceive a more 
deeply solemn scene than had transpired." 

This timely deliverance moved every pious American 
heart to profoundest gratitude, for if once the English 
fleet had moved up the East Eiver and cut off commu- 
nication between Xew York and Brooklyn, nothing could 
have saved the army from capture. Howe, not supposing 
an escape possible, had taken no precautions against such 
an event. It is said that a tory woman sent her negro 
servant to inform the British of the movements of the 
patriot army, but he fell into the hands of the Hessians, 
who, not understanding a word of English, kept him until 
morning. After daybreak, and the fog had lifted, a Brit- 



Steele] THE CAPTURE OF NEW FORK. 25 

ish captain, with a handful of men, stealthily crept down 
through the fallen trees, and, crawling over the intrench- 
ments, found them deserted. A troop of horse hurried 
to the river and captured the last boat, manned by three 
vasjabonds who had stayed behind for plunder. 

[Washington, conscious of his weakness, wished to evacuate the 
city, but Congress would not consent. During the interval Captain 
Nathan Hale, of Connecticut, visited the English camp as a spy, and 
was arrested on his way back by a tory relative, and handed over to 
Howe, who executed him the next morning.] 

Having occupied Buchanan's and Montressor's Islands, 
now Ward's and Eandall's, Clinton, with a heavy bod}- 
of troops, crossed the East Eiver under the fire of the 
fleet early Sunday morning, September 15, and landed at 
Kip's Bay, at the foot of the present Thirty-Fourth Sti"eet. 
The American troops at this point fled from the intrench- 
ments. It was all-important that the position should be 
held, as Putnam was in the city below with four thousand 
men, and time must be gained for them to escape. Wash- 
ington came galloping among the fugitives and rallied 
them. But when two- or threescore red-coats came in 
sight, they broke again without firing a shot, and scat- 
tered in the wildest terror. Losing all self-command at 
the sight of such cowardice, Washington dashed forward 
toward the enemy, exclaiming, " Are these the men with 
whom I am to defend America ?" General Greene writes 
of this scene, that the poltroons " left his Excellency on 
the ground, within eighty yards of the enemy, so vexed 
at the infamous conduct of his troops that he sought death 
rather than life." He might, indeed, have fallen into the 
hands of the British, so overcome was he by the dastardly 
conduct of his soldiers, had not an aide-de-camp seized his 
horse by the bridle and hurried him away. Eallying his 

II.— B 3 



26 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Steele 

self-possession, WashiDgtou hastened to look after the 
safety of the rest of his army. It was a moment of ex- 
treme peril. Fortunately, on landing, Howe, Clinton, and 
some others called at the house of Eobert Murray for ro 
freshments. The owner, who was a Quaker, was absent, 
but his wife, a stanch whig, regaled them with such an 
abundance of cake and wine, and listened with such ad- 
mirable attention to their humorous descriptions of her 
countrymen's panic, that their appetite and vanity got 
the better of their judgment and kept them long at her 
delightful entertainment. Meanwhile, Putnam was hurry- 
ing his men along the Bloomingdale road, not a mile dis- 
tant, under a burning sun, through clouds of dust, and 
liable at any moment to be raked by the fire of the Eng- 
hsh ships anchored in the Hudson. Thanks to the wit 
of the good Mrs. Murray, the British troops came up only 
in time to send a few parting shots at their rear-guard. 
Washington collected his army on Harlem Heights. 

That night the wearied troops lay on the open ground, 
in the midst of a cold, driving rain, without tent or shelter. 
Anxious to encourage his disheartened men, Washington, 
the same evening, ordered Silas Talbot, in charge of a fire- 
ship in the Hudson, to make a descent upon the English 
fleet. Accordingly, this brave captain, dropping down 
with the tide, steered his vessel alongside the Renomme. 
Stopping to grapple his antagonist surely, and to make 
certain of firing the trains of powder, he was himself 
fearfully burned before he could drop into the water. It 
was an awful scene. The British ships poured their broad- 
sides upon his little boat as he was rapidl}^ rowed away, 
while huge billows of flame bursting out from the fire- 
ship lighted up the fleet and the harbor with terrible dis- 
tinctness. From every side boats put off" to the rescue 
of the endangered vessel, which was finally bx'ought safely 



Carkington] the victory AT TRENTON. 27 

away. But the entire British fleet slipped their moorings 
and quitted the stream. 

[Shortly after the entrance of the British into New York a fire 
broke out which destroyed five hundred houses and reduced their hopes 
of warm winter-quarters. "Washington fortified himself on Harlem 
Heights. But his army was in a deplorable state, and on the verge of 
dissolution, the term of service of the men being nearly expired, while 
f.hey were so disheartened as to desert by hundreds, whole regiments 
returning home. Howe made an effort to get into the rear of the 
Americans, which his watchful foe negatived by a hasty retreat to 
White Plains. Here the British made an attack, resulting in a minor 
advantage. Soon afterwards Washington retreated to the heights of 
North Castle, and after a short interval crossed with his main body to 
the Highlands, being apprehensive that the British might invade New 
Jersey and perhaps seek to capture Philadelphia.] 



THE VICTORY AT TRENTON. 

HENRY B. CARRIXGTON. 

[The withdrawal of Washington to the Highlands left the garri- 
sons at Forts Washington and Lee in a position of great insecurity. 
General Greene had persisted in retaining the garrison in Fort Wash- 
ington, and had induced Congress to order its continued occupation, 
despite the remonstrances of Washington. The result justified the 
fears of the commander-in-chief. Howe invested the fort, and be- 
sieged it with such vigor that its brave commander was obliged to 
surrender. The besiegers lost nearly a thousand men in killed and 
wounded, the Americans one hundred and forty-nine : much valu- 
able artillery and a large number of small-arms were captured, and 
more than twenty-six hundred prisoners taken. An advance was next 
made on Fort Lee, which lay on the New Jersey side of the Hudson, 
about ten miles above the city. The garrison of this stronghold 
escaped certain capture by a hasty withdrawal, but much valuable 
material was abandoned to the enemy. These were serious disasters 



28 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Carrington 

to the American army, and Washington found himself obliged to 
retreat step by step through New Jersey, followed by the victorious 
foe. Fortunately for him, the Howes divided their forces, a strong 
expedition being sent to Newport, for the capture of the island of 
Rhode Island, the unimportant occupation of which employed a large 
body of troops for three years. 

Washington, after facing his foe at every step, was finally forced 
by superior numbers to cross the Delaware, on which he destroyed 
or secured every boat for a distance of seventy miles, to prevent the 
enemy from following. Howe reached Trenton on the 8th of Decem- 
ber, just in time to see the last of the Americans safely pass the river. 

Meanwhile, General Lee, who had been left in command on the 
Hudson, delayed his march to Washington's aid, despite the urgency 
of the latter, and, while carelessly passing the night at a distance from 
his force, was taken prisoner by some British dragoons. " No hope 
remained to the United States but in Washington. His retreat ot 
ninety miles through the Jerseys, protracted for eighteen or nineteen 
days, in winter, often in sight and within cannon-shot of his enemies, 
his rear pulling down bridges and their van building them up, had 
for its purpose to effect delay till midwinter and impassable roads 
should offer their protection. The actors, looking back upon the 
crowded disasters which fell on them, hardly knew by what springs 
of animation they had been sustained." 

This retreat and pursuit threw the inhabitants of the then seat of 
government into the greatest dismay. There were British posts in New 
Jersey but little above Philadelphia, and ships of war were rumored 
to be in the bay. The inhabitants sent their wives and children, and 
portable valuables, from the city. The panic affected Congress, which 
body hastily voted to adjourn to Baltimore, their flight seriously in- 
juring the public credit and causing a fall in the value of the currency. 
Putnam held the city, which he was charged to hold to the last ex- 
tremity. General Howe, satisfied that the fight was thoroughly taken 
out of the American army, returned to his winter-quarters in New 
York, leaving Donop with two Hessian brigades and the Forty-Second 
Highlanders to hold the line from Trenton to Burlington. 

European confidence in the success of the British was at its height. 
"Franklin's troops have been beaten by those of the King of Eng- 
land," wrote Voltaire : "alas! reason and liberty are ill received in 
this world." Rockingham, Lord North, Burke, and other statesmen 
of England considered the resistance of the colonists nearly at an end. 



Carrington] the victory AT TRENTON. 29 

In New York the young officers were preparing to amuse th'emselves 
with dramatic performances, while gambling served to fill the intervals 
between the frequent balls and parties. Cornwallis left Grant in com- 
mand in New Jersey, and was about to embark for England, as he 
considered the fighting at an end. All was confidence on the part of 
the invaders, gloom and depression on that of the Americans. 

Donop declared that Trenton should be protected by redoubts, but 
Eahl, who commanded that post, disdained the idea. There were 
rumors, indeed, that Washington was threatening Trenton, but no one 
believed them. " Let them come," said Eahl, valiantly : " what need 
of intrenchments ? We will at them with the bayonet." He neglected 
all proper measures of security, and spent his time in carousing, while 
the men under his command made the most of their opportunities for 
plundering. 

Tet he was not so secure as he imagined. Washington was less 
discouraged and less powerless than his enemies supposed. Perceiving 
that the forces of the enemy were scattered and careless, he resolved, 
on the 16th of December, to take advantage of the opportunity oflTered 
for a surprise. All the boats available were secured, and his forces, 
increased by fifteen hundred volunteers from Philadelphia, guarded 
all the crossing-places on the Delaware. While waiting for the proper 
time to put his scheme in execution, some reinforcements under Greene 
and Sullivan joined him. At length the chosen period arrived. We 
select from Carrington's " Battles of the American Revolution" a de- 
scription of the important events that succeeded.] 

On the twenty-fifth day of December, 1776, the regi- 
ments of Anspach, Knyphausen, and Eahl, with fifty 
chasseurs and twenty light dragoons, making a total ef- 
fective force of not quite fifteen hundred and fifty men, 
constituted the garrison at Trenton. The command had 
six pieces of artillery, including two in front of Colonel 
Eahl's quarters; but, contrary to the previous advice of 
Colonel Donop, there were neither field-works nor defence 
of any kind before the ferry or at any of the approaches 
to the town. One such work on the summit, at the fork 
of King and Queen's Streets, and one on Front Street, 
would have seriously endangered the American move- 
ir. 3* 



30 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Carrington 

ment, especially under the circumstances of severe weather, 
which almost disarmed the assailants. It is well known 
that rumors of an impending offensive return by Washing- 
ton had reached Colonel Eahl, and that a small picket- 
guard had been stationed on the old Pennington road, half 
a mile beyond the head of King Street, and another was 
in position, equally advanced, upon the river road leading 
to the next upper, or McConkey's Ferry, past the houses 
of Eutherford and General Dickinson. 

It was Christmas day, a holiday in great favor with the 
troops which composed the garrison. It is profitless for 
the author's purpose to enter into details of the manner 
in which that garrison observed that holiday and spent 
the night which closed its enjoyment. It is enough to 
state that military negligence was absolute, and that it 
cost the commander his life. That negligence lasted 
through the night, and prevailed up to eight o'clock in 
the morning. It appears that the usual morning parade 
routine had been observed, and the men had returned to 
their barracks. These barracks, now cleft by a street, 
were still standing in 1875, and showed that they afforded 
a good defensive position, if promptly occupied and firmly 
held. The disposition of the American army for the attack 
was eminently bold and judicious. Grifiin was expected 
still to occupy the attention of Donop, as if the demon- 
strations across the river were but the feverish action of 
local militia. A small centre column, under General James 
Ewing, of Pennsylvania, whose brigade reported but five 
hundred and forty-seven rank and file for duty, was to 
cross just below Trenton, to occupy the bridge across the 
Assanpink, and thus sever communication with Donop's 
corps at Bordentown. Still further down the river, as a 
constraint upon the possible movement of that corps to 
the support of Colonel Eahl, the right wing under Colonel 



Carrikgton] the victory AT TRENTON. 31 

John Cadwallader, not 3'et promoted, was ordered to cross 
at Bristol, below Bordentown, with view to a direct attack 
upon Donop from the south, and thus co-operate with the 
militia in that quarter. General Washington reserved for 
himself the conduct of the left wing, consisting of twenty- 
four hundred men, which was to cross nine miles above 
Trenton, at McConkey's Ferry. Learning that Maiden- 
head was almost without garrison, except a troop of dra- 
goons, it was the purpose of the American commander also 
to include that sub-post within his raid. 

It was also expected that Genei'al Putnam would cross 
from Philadelphia early on the twenty-sixth, with at least 
a thousand men. The plan embraced the entire deliver- 
ance of the left bank of the Delaware. 

The right wing landed a portion of its troops, but, on 
account of the ice, could not land the artillery, and re- 
turned to Bristol. Cadwallader expressed his great regret 
in his report to Washington, remarking, "I imagine the 
badness of the night must have prevented you from pass- 
ing over as you intended." 

It was not until four o'clock that Cadwallader succeeded 
in regaining Bristol ; and Moylan, who then started to join 
Washington, found the storm so violent that he abandoned 
his purpose, believing that that officer could not possibly 
effect a crossing. The centre column failed to effect a 
landing for the same reason. 

The left wing of the army under Washington, accom 
panied by Greene and Sullivan as division commanders, 
formed evening parade under cover of the high ground 
just back of McConkey's Ferry, now known as Taylorville. 
It was designed to move as soon as darkness set in, so as 
to complete the crossing at midnight, and enter Trenton 
as earl}' as five o'clock on the morning of the twenty- 
sixth. 



32 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cakrixgton 

It was such a night as cost Montgomery and Arnold 
their fearful experience under the rock of Quebec. It was 
cold, snowy, and tempestuous. A few days of milder 
weather had opened the ice; now it was again rapidly 
freezing, checking the current and skirting the shore. 

The scanty protection of blankets was as nothing to 
protect men in such- a conflict. There were young volun- 
teers from Philadelphia in that command, going forth for 
the fii-st time to study war. There were nearly ragged 
and shoeless veterans there, who had faced such storms, 
and the fiercer storms of war, before. Stark, of Breed's 
Hill, was there. G-lover, the man of Marblehead, a hero 
of the Long Island retreat, and Webb and Scott, and Wil- 
liam Washington and James Monroe, were there. Brain 
and courage, nerve and faith, were there. Washington's 
countersign of the twenty-third, " Victory or death,'' was 
In the inner chambers of manj^ souls, guarding manhood, 
quickening conscience, and defying nature. This was all 
because the path of duty was so well defined. The order 
to embark and cross over had been given. It was short, 
and made no allusion to the swift current, the cold or snow. 
These were almost negative facts, circumstances of delay 
and discomfoi't, but could not set aside duty. Those men 
had been retreating, and had rested on the bank of the 
Delaware, almost hopeless of better times. They were 
now faced upon their late pursuers. The " man of re- 
treats" and temporary positions was in his fighting mood, 
and men went with him, counting no impediments and 
sternly in earnest. 

" As severe a night as I ever saw," wrote Thomas Eod- 
ney; "the frost was sharp, the current difficult to stem, 
the ice increasing, the wind high, and at eleven it began 
to snow." 

The landing of the artillery was not efi'ected until three 



Oarrington] the victory AT TRENTON. 33 

o'clock, but the army did not march until four. Eetreat 
could not be made without discovery, annoyance, and con 
sequent disheartening of his troops, and, late as it was, the 
advance was ordered. The snow ceased, but sleet and hail 
came fiercely from the northeast, as the march began. 

A mile and a quarter from the landing brought them to 
Bear Tavern, where they reached the direct river road 
to Trenton. Three miles and a half moi'e brought them 
to Birmingham. Sullivan here notified Washington by a 
messenger that the men reported their " arms to be wet." 
"Tell your general," said Washington, "to use the bayo- 
net and penetrate into the town. The town must be 
taken. I am resolved to take it." 

Here the army divided. Sullivan's division moved at 
once, by the river road, toward Trenton, then only four 
and a half miles distant. Washington, with Greene, took 
direction to the left, crossed over to the old Scotch road, 
and entered the Pennington road one mile from town. 
This route was about equally distant with the other from 
the points aimed at by the respective divisions. Washing- 
ton's division, as he says, " arrived at the enemy's advanced 
post exactly at eight o'clock ; and three minutes after, I 
found from the fii"e on the lower road that that division 
had also got up." The pickets on both roads behaved 
well, but were quickly swept away by the force which 
already hastened to its achievement. 

Washington moved directly to the junction of King and 
Queen Streets. The flying pickets had already given the 
alarm, and the Hessians were beginning to rally within 
sight, as he rode in advance. 

Under his direction Colonel Knox placed Forrest's bat- 
tery of six guns in position so as to command both streets, 
which there diverged at a very acute angle, — Queen Street 
running southward to the Assanpink. and King Street in- 
ir. — c 



34 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Carrixgton 

dining east of south, to the crossing of Second and Front 
Streets, by which Sullivan must approach. Colonel Eahl 
occupied the largo frame house of Stacy Potts, near where' 
Perry Street joins King Street. He promptly put himself 
at the head of a hastily-gathered detachment for the pur- 
pose of advancing up King Street to its summit, but Cap- 
tain Forrest's battery of six guns had already opened fire. 
The regiment of Knyphausen attempted to form in open 
ground between Queen Street and the Assanpink, while a 
third detachment, completely demoralized, moved rapidly 
toward the Princeton road to escape in that direction. 
This last detachment was met by Colonel Hand's rifle bat- 
talion, which had been deployed to Washington's left, as a 
guard upon that possible line of retreat, as well as to watch 
the approaches from Princeton. Scott's and Lawson's Yir- 
ginia battalions had been thrown still further to the left, 
thus completely closing the gap between Hand and the 
Assanpink Eiver. 

While Rahl was gathering his own companies as rapidly 
as possible, the two guns at his head-quarters had been 
partially manned and wei-e read}^ to deliver fire ; when 
Captain Washington, with Lieutenant James Monroe and 
an active party, rushed upon the gunners and brought 
away the pieces before a sufficiently strong infantry sup- 
port could be brought up for their protection. Eahl 
moved his companies as soon as formed, and joined Knyp- 
hausen's regiment, but almost immediately moved back 
for the cover which the buildings afforded. 

Galloway, Stedman, and some other early writers have 
alleged that the Hessians returned to load wagons and 
carry off their accumulated plunder. It is difficult to 
regard such statements as other than traditional fables. 
Individuals may have tried to save their effects, but there 
was very little time to spare for that business, and Colonel 



Carringtox] the victory AT TRENTON. 35 

Eahl was too strict a soldiei' to have permitted it at such 
a moment. 

Captain Forrest's guns swept the open ground as well 
as the streets, and the adjoining orchard was equally un- 
tenable, hopelessly exposing the men to a fire which could 
not be returned. Two of the guns which wore afterwards 
taken seem to have been cut off from the reach of the 
Hessians when they were themselves drifted eastward 
from' their magazine and barracks by the American con- 
trol of both King and Queen Streets ; and two guns with 
the Knyphausen regiment were of little service. General 
Sullivan's division entered the town through Front and 
Second Streets. Colonel Stark, who led the column, moved 
directly to the Assanpink bridge, to cut off retreat toward 
Bordentovvn, but the chasseurs, the light horse, and a 
considerable infantry force, at least two hundred men, 
had already crossed the bridge in retreat upon that post. 
St. Clair took possession of the foot of Queen Street, and 
as Stark swung round and moved up the Assanpink the 
Hessians were literally between two fires, while the addi- 
tional enfilading fire upon the streets closed their left, and 
the Assanpink closed their right. 

For a short time small parties of Hessians who had 
been unable to join their companies kept up a fruitless 
scattering fire from houses where they had taken refuge ; 
but the fall of Colonel Eahl while urging his men to as- 
sault the summit where Washington controlled the action, 
and the advance of Sullivan's division, which shut up all 
avenues of escape to Bordentown, forced the Hessians 
out of the town to the open field and orchard, where the 
whole command surrendered. 

The American casualties were two killed and three 
wounded. Captain Washington and Monroe being among 
the latter. Several were badly frozen, — in two instances 



36 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Carrinoton 

resulting fatally. The Hessian casualties were given by- 
General Howe as forty men killed and wounded, besides 
officers ; and nine hundred and eighteen prisoners were 
taken, of whom thirty were officers. Subsequently, a lieu- 
tenant-colonel, a deputy adjutant-general, and scattering 
members of the Hessian corps were taken, making the 
total number of prisoners, as reported by "Washington 
on the twenty-eighth of December, about one thousand. 
The trophies of war were six bronze guns, four sets of 
colors, over a thousand stand of arms, twelve drums, many 
blankets, and other garrison supplies. General Howe 
says, " This misfortune seems to have proceeded from Colo- 
nel Eahl's quitting the post and advancing to the attack, 
instead of defending the village." The fact is overlooked 
that Washington's position at the head of King and Queen 
Streets with artillery, which commanded both streets, 
afforded a very poor opportunity for the surprised Hes- 
sians. The more men they gathered in those narrow 
streets, the better it was for American artillery practice. 
Eahl followed the instincts of a soldier, and, as he had not 
the force to assault the enemy and dispossess them of 
their commanding positions, he sought ground where he 
could form his command and fight as he could get oppor- 
tunity. The movement of Washington which threw Hand, 
Scott, and Lawson to the left, together with his superiority 
in artillery, and the pressure of Sullivan's division from 
the rear through Second Street, forced Colonel Eahl to his 
fate. His mistakes had been made before the alarm of 
battle recalled him to duty ; and then he did all that time 
and Washington permitted. The disparity in casualties is 
accounted for by the facts stated. The American artil- 
lery had its play at will beyond musket-range and upon 
higher ground, with little chance for the Hessians to ren- 
der fire in return. A few skilfully-handed guns determined 



Carrington] the victory AT TRENTON. 37 

the action. Washington on this occasion evinced the force 
of individual will applied, under extreme necessity, to a 
determining issue. The battle occupied less than one hour. 
Its fruit was like the grain of mustard-seed which devel- 
oped a tree under whose branches a thousand might take 
shelter. He marched back to Newtown with prisoners of 
war, reaching head-quarters the same night; a new ex- 
perience for the American army. This countermarch was 
attended with great hardships and suffering. The entire 
distance marched by the troops which left Newtown with 
Washington was nearly thirty miles, before they again 
reached their camp, and more than a thousand men were 
practically disabled for duty through frozen limbs and 
broken-down energies. 

[The events that succeeded this important victory may be briefly 
stated. Washington's good fortune having brought him in reinforce- 
ments of militia, and induced some of his men whose term was about 
expiring to remain six weeks longer, he recrossed to Trenton on De- 
cember 28. The British were now in force at Princeton. On January 
2, Cornwallis reached Trenton with a strong army. Washington lay 
intrenched on the east side of the creek, with about five thousand men. 
The British threatened an attack the next day, in which defeat would 
have been ruinous to the Americans, since the ice in the Delaware 
rendered it nearly impassable in the face of an active foe. Washing- 
ton accordingly devised a stratagem which proved highly successful. 
Kindling his camp-fires, and leaving guards and sentinels, he de- 
camped that night with his whole army, and reached Princeton the 
next morning, about the time that Cornwallis discovered his disap- 
peai-ance. Here he met and defeated a body of soldiers, but, finding 
that Cornwallis was marching hastily back, and fearing to be caught 
between two fires with a worn-out army, he abruptly left that locality, 
and marched towards Morristown, while the British hastened to New 
Brunswick, to save their stores. Washington soon took the field again, 
and overran all northern New Jersey, while Howe's army became con- 
fined to the two posts of Amboy and New Brunswick. The people of 
New Jersey, who had been cruelly abused by the invaders, now retali- 
II. 4 



38 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Botta 

ated by a guerilla warfare, cutting off outposts, attacking stragglers, 
and so annoying the British that they hardly dared venture beyond 
their lines.] 



THE CAPTURE OF PHILADELPHIA. 

CHARLES BOTTA. 

[The active military operations of the year 1777 in the North were 
matched by as active ones in the Middle States, though the latter did 
not end so successfully for the American cause. In the early part of 
the year, as we have seen, "Washington had regained possession of New 
Jersey, and closed the avenue to Philadelphia by that route. Half 
the year was occupied by Howe in vain endeavors to bring Washing- 
ton to a general engagement. Failing in this, he withdrew all his 
forces from New Jersey, and began extensive preparations for a sea- 
expedition, whose object it was not easy to ascertain. Washington, 
however, believed it to be the capture of Philadelphia, and made en- 
ergetic preparations for the defence of that city. Howe set sail from 
Sandy Hook on the 23d of July with a large and well-appointed 
army, leaving a strong garrison to hold New York. Ehode Island 
was also strongly garrisoned. Yet about this time an adventure of 
striking boldness occurred on that island. General Prescott, who com- 
manded the Ehode Island forces, had become very negligent of his 
guard, under assurance of perfect safety. In consequence, on the 10th 
of July, a party of militia secretly landed on the island and carried 
him off prisoner from the midst of his army. This exploit gave the 
greatest satisfoction to the Americans, who hoped to exchange this 
prisoner for General Lee, who had been captured in much the same 
manner. 

About this time several French officers of distinction entered the 
service of the United States, principal among them being the Marquis 
de Lafayette, a young nobleman of the highest rank, and for whom 
Washington ever afterwards felt the warmest friendship. The inten- 
tions of Howe for some time remained doubtful. His fleet kept at sea, 
off the coast, and Washington was in doubt whether its destination 
was Delaware or Chesapeake Bay, or whether it might return to the 




BRIDGE CROSSED BY WASHINGTON'S ARMY. 



BoTTA] THE CAPTURE OF PHILADELPHIA. 39 

Hudson or assail Charleston. The Delaware had been rendered im- 
passable by obstructions, and all doubt was finally ended by the ap- 
pearance of the fleet in the Chesapeake. It was now the last of 
August, the fleet having been baffled and delayed by persistent con- 
trary winds. On the 25th of August the British army, eighteen 
thousand strong, landed near the head of Elk River, in Maryland. 
Washington, who had advanced beyond Wilmington, retreated before 
this superior force, and took up a position behind the Brandywine, 
where he designed to make a stand for tbe defence of Philadelphia. 
The story of the subsequent events we select from a well-known and 
valuable work on American history by an Italian author, Botta's 
" History of the War for Independence of the United States of 
America," as translated by George A. Otis.] 

Early in the morning of the eleventh of September the 
British army marched to the enemy. Howe had formed 
his army in two columns, the right commanded by General 
Knj^phausen, the left by Lord Cornwallis. 'His plan was, 
that while the first should make repexited feints to attempt 
the passage of Chadsford, in order to occupy the attention 
of the republicans, the second should take a long circuit 
to the upper part of the river, and cross at a place where 
it was divided into two shallow streams. . . . Knyphausen 
advanced with his column, and commenced a furious can- 
nonade upon the passage of Chadsford, making all his dis- 
positions as if he intended to force it. The Americans de- 
fended themselves with gallantry, and even passed several 
detachments of light troops to the other side, in order to 
harass the enemy's flanks. But after a course of skir- 
mishes, sometimes advancing, and at others obliged to 
retire, they were finally, with an eager pursuit, driven 
over the river. Knyphausen then appeared more than 
ever determined to pass the ford ; he stormed, and kept 
up an incredible noise. In this manner the attention of 
the Americans was fully occupied in the neighborhood of 
Chadsford. Meanwhile, Lord Cornwallis, at the head of 



40 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Botta 

the second column, took a circuitous march to the left, 
and gained unperceived the forks of the Brandy wine. By 
this rapid movement he passed both branches of the river 
at Trimble's and at Jeffery's Fords, Avithout opposition, 
about two o'clock in the afternoon, and then, turning short 
down the river, took the i-oad to Dilworth, in order to fall 
upon the right flank of the American army. The repub- 
lican general, however, received intelligence of this move- 
ment about noon, and, as it usually happens in similar 
cases, the reports exaggerated its importance exceedingly, 
it being represented that General Howe commanded this 
division in person. Washington therefore decided imme- 
diately for the most judicious, though boldest, measure: 
this was, to pass the river with the centre and left wing 
of his army, and overwhelm Knyphausen by the most 
furious attack. He justly reflected that the advantage he 
should obtain upon the enemy's right would amply com- 
pensate the loss that his own might sustain at the same 
time. Accordingly, he ordered General Sullivan to pass 
the Brandywine with his division at an upper ford and 
attack the left of Knyphausen, while he, in person, should 
cross lower down and* fall upon the right of that general. 

[This operation was checked by the arrival of a new report, to the 
efl'ect that the previous information was false. "Washington was thus 
kept in uncertainty till it was too late to make any decisive movement. 
On learning that the enemy was really approaching in force, he hastily 
made preparations to meet this imminent danger.] 

But the column of Cornwallis was already in sight of 
the Americans. Sullivan drew up his troops on the com- 
manding ground above Birmingham meeting-house, with 
his left extending towards the Brandywine, and both his 
flanks covered with very thick woods. His artillery was 
advantageously planted upon the neighboring hills. But 



Botta] the capture OF PHILADELPHIA. 41 

it apj)ears that Sullivan's own brigade, having taken a 
long circuit, arrived too late upon the field of battle, and 
had not yet occupied the position assigned it, when the 
action commenced. The English, having reconnoitred the 
dispositions of the Americans, immediately formed, and 
fell upon them with the utmost impetuosity. The engage- 
ment became equally fierce on both sides about four o'clock 
in the afternoon. For some length of time the Americans 
defended themselves with great valor, and the .carnage 
was terrible. But such was the emulation which invigo- 
rated the eff'orts of the English and Hessians [between 
whom a feeling of rivalry existed] that neither the advan- 
tages of situation, nor a heavj^ and well-supported fire of 
small-arms and artillery, nor the unshaken Coui*age of the 
Americans, were able to resist their impetuosity. The 
light infantry, chasseurs, grenadiers, and guards threw 
themselves with such fury into the midst of the republican 
battalions that the}^ were forced to give way. Their left 
flank was first thrown into confusion ; but the rout soon 
became general. The vanquished fled into the woods in 
their rear : the victors pursued, and advanced by the great 
road towards Dilworth. On the first fire of the artiller}", 
Washington, having no doubt of what was passing, had 
pushed forward the reserve to the succor of Sullivan. But 
this corps, on approaching the field of battle, fell in with 
the flying soldiers of Sullivan, and perceived that no hope 
remained of retrieving the fortunes of the day. General 
Greene, by a judicious manoeuvre, opened his ranks to re- 
ceive the fugitives, and after their passage, having closed 
them anew, he retired in good order, checking the pursuit 
of the enemy by a continual fire of the artillery which 
covered his rear. Having come to a defile, covered on 
both sides with woods, he drew up his men there, and 
again faced the enemy. 

II. 4* 



42 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Botta 

[Knyphausen now prepared to convert his feint into a real crossing 
of the river.] 

The passable of Chadsford was defended by an intrench- 
ment and battery. The republicans stood firm at first ; 
but upon intelligence of the defeat of their right, and 
seeing some of the British troops who had penetrated 
through the woods come out upon their flank, they re- 
tired in disorder, abandoning their artillery and munitions 
to the German general. In their retreat, or rather flight, 
they jmssed behind the position of Groneral Greene, who 
still defended himself, and was the last to quit the field 
of battle. Finally, it being already dark, after a long 
and obstinate conflict, he also retired. The whole army 
retreated that night to Chester, and the day following to 
Philadelphia. 

There the fugitives arrived incessantly, having eff'ected 
their escape through by-ways and circuitous routes. The 
victors passed the night on the field of battle. If dark- 
ness had not arrived seasonably, it is very probable that 
the whole American army would have been destroyed. 
The loss of the republicans was computed at about three 
hundred killed, six hundred wounded, and near four hun- 
dred taken prisoners. They also lost ten field-pieces and 
a howitzer. The loss in the royal army was not in pro- 
portion, being something under five hundred, of which 
the slain did not amount to one-fifth. 

[The foreign officers, Count Pulaski, a noble Pole, Lafayette, Cap- 
tain De Fleury, and the Baron St. Ovary, were of great use to the 
Americans in this conflict. St. Ovary was taiten prisoner, and Lafa}'- 
ette wounded. The defeat did not discourage Congress, which had 
resumed its sessions in Philadelphia, nor Washington, who took active 
measures to retrieve his losses. Within a few daj's after the defeat he 
advanced again, and offered battle to the approaching enemy. But 
there came so violent a rainfall as seriously to injure the arms and 



BoTTA] THE CAPTURE OF PHILADELPHIA. 43 

ammunition of the Americans, and Washington was forced to with- 
draw his army. Meanwhile, General Wayne was surprised by a night 
attack at Paoli, assailed with the bayonet, and had three hundred men 
killed out of a total of fifteen hundred. This assault, which was little 
else than a massacre, was long remembered with indignation by the 
Americans. Washington now, finding the extensive magazines of 
provisions and military stores which he had formed at Eeading 
threatened by the British, moved to cover them, and abandoned 
Philadelphia, which was occupied by the enemy on the 2Gth of Sep- 
tember. Congress adjourned to Lancaster. Yet Washington's activity 
continued unremitting. Batteries were erected on the Delaware, and 
obstructions sunlc, to prevent the British fleet from ascending the river. 
Learning that Howe had sent some regiments to reduce these batteries, 
Washington took the opportunity, on October 4, to fall upon the 
weakened British army, then encamped at Germantown.] 

Germantown is a considerable village, about half a dozen 
miles from Philadelphia, and which, stretching on both 
sides of the great road to the northward, forms a con- 
tinued street of two miles in length. The British line of 
encampment crossed Germantown at right angles about 
the centi-e, the left wing extending on the west from the 
town to the Sehuj-lkill. . . . The centre, being posted 
within the town, was guarded by the Fortieth Regiment, 
and another battalion of hght infantry, stationed about 
three-quarters of a mile above the head of the village. 
Washington resolved to attack the British by surprise, 
not doubting that if he succeeded in breaking them, as 
they were not only distant but totally separated from the 
fleet, his victory must be decisive. 

[He divided his troops, so as to make a double attack, with the pur- 
pose of separating the right and left wings of the British army. Par- 
ties of cavalry were sent out to scour the roads, to prevent any one 
from notifying Howe of the movement intended. A silent and rapid 
night march was made.] 

At three o'clock in the morning the British patrols di.s- 



44 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Botta 

covered the approach of the Americans : the troops were 
soon called to arms ; each took his post with the precipi- 
tation of surprise. About sunrise the Americans came up. 
General Conway, having driven in the pickets, fell upon 
the Fortieth Eegiment and the battalion of light infantry. 
These corps, after a short resistance, being overpowered 
by numbers, were pressed and pursued into the village. 
Fortune appeared already to have declared herself in 
favor of the Americans ; and certainly, if they had gained 
complete possession of Germantown, nothing could have 
frustrated them of the most signal victory. But in this 
conjuncture Lieutenant-Colonel Musgrave threw himself, 
with six companies of the Fortieth Eegiment, into a large 
and strong stone house, situated near the head of the vil- 
lage, from which he poured upon the assailants so terrible 
a fire of musketry that they could advance no further. 
The Americans attempted to storm this unexpected covert 
of the enemy, but those within continued to defend them- 
selves with resolution. They finally brought up cannon 
to the assault; but such was the intrepidity of the English 
and the violence of their fire that it was found impossible 
to dislodge them. 

[Meanwhile, General Greene had assailed the left flank of the enemy's 
right wing ; but the columns which were to aid his movement by turn- 
ing the right and left flanks of the British army failed to perform the 
work expected of them.] 

The consequence was that General Grej', finding his left 
flank secure, marched, with nearly the whole of the left 
wing, to the assistance of the centre, which, notwithstand- 
ing the unexpected resistance of Colonel Musgrave, was 
excessively hard pressed in Germantown, where the Ameri 
cans gained ground incessantly. The battle was now very 
warm at that villao;e. the attack and the defence beinc: 



BOTTA] THE CAPTURE OF PHILADELPHIA. 45 

alike vigorous. The issue appeared for some time dubious. 
General Agnew was mortally wounded, while charging, 
with great bravery, at the head of the Fourth Brigade. 
The American colonel Matthews, of the column of Greene, 
assailed the English with so much fury that he drove them 
before him into the town. He had taken a large number 
of prisoners, and was about entering the village, when he 
perceived that a thick fog and the unevenness of the ground 
bad caused him to lose sight of the rest of his division. 
Being soon enveloped by the extremity of the right wing, 
which fell back upon him when it had discovered that 
nothing was to be apprehended from the tardy approach 
of the militia of Maryland and Jersey, he was compelled 
to surrender with all his pai'ty : the English had alread}' 
rescued their prisoners. This check was the cause that 
two regiments of the English right wing were enabled to 
throw themselves into Germantown, and to attack the 
Americans who had entered it in flank. Unable to sustain 
the shock, they retired precipitately, leaving a great num- 
ber of killed and wounded. Lieutenant-Colonel Musgrave, 
to whom belongs the principal honor of this affair, was 
then relieved from all peril. General Grey, being absolute 
master of all Germantown, flew to the succor of the right 
wing, which was engaged with the left of the column of 
Greene. The Americans then took to flight, abandoning 
to the English throughout the line a victory of which in 
the commencement of the action they had felt assured. 

The princij^al causes of the failure of this well-concerted 
enterj^rise were the extreme haziness of the weather, which 
was so thick that the Americans could neither discover the 
situation nor movements of the British army, nor yet those 
of their own ; the inequality of the ground, which inces- 
santly broke the ranks of their battalions; . . . and, finally, 
the unexpected resistance of Musgrave, who found means, 



46 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Botta 

in a critical moment, to transform a mere house into an 
impregnable fortress. 

[The American loss was about twelve hundred in killed, wounded, 
and prisoners; that of the English, about five hundred in killed and 
wounded. "Washington retreated immediately to Perkiomen Creek, 
while in a few days after the battle the British army was removed 
from Germantown to Philadelphia. Congress expressed warm appro- 
bation of the plan of action and the courage shown in its execution, 
and passed a vote of thanks to the general and the army. Washing- 
ton quickly advanced again to a threatening position at Skippack 
Creek.] 

Thus the British general might have seen that he had 
to grapple with an adversary who, far from allowing him- 
self to be discouraged by adverse fortune, seemed, on the 
contrary, to gain by it more formidable energies ; who, the 
moment after defeat, was prepared to resume the offensive ; 
and whose firmness and activity were such that even the 
victories obtained by his adversaries only j-ielded them 
the effects of defeat. Nor was the taking of Philadel- 
phia attended with those advantages which were expected 
from it- 

The inhabitants of the country were not in the least 
intimidated by that event ; and the victorious armj-, sur- 
rounded on. all sides by enemies, found itself, as it were, 
immured within the precincts of the city, Washington, 
posted on the heights of the Schuylkill, maintained a 
menacing attitude : he employed his cavalry and light 
troops in scouring the countrj- between the banks of that 
river and those of the Delaware. He thus repressed the 
excursions of the English, prevented them from foraging 
with safet}^, and deterred the disaffected or the avaricious 
among the people of the country from conveying provisions 
to their camp. 

[Howe, thus rendered unable to supply himself from the surround- 



Botta] the capture OF PHILADELPHIA. 47 

ing country, diligently endeavored to remove the obstructions from 
the Delaware, that his fleet might come up. Arrangements were made 
for attacl^s in force on the batteries of Port Mifilin, on the Pennsyl- 
vania side, and of Fort Mercer, at Red Bank, on the Jersey shore.] 

According to these dispositions, the English put them- 
selves in motion on the evening of the twenty-fii'st of Oc- 
tober. Colonel Donop, a German officer, who had distin- 
guished himself in the course of the campaign, passed the 
Delaware from Philadelphia, with a strong detachment of 
Hessians, at Cooper's Ferry. Then marching down the 
Jersey shore, along the bank of the river, he arrived at a 
late hour the following day in the rear of Red Bank. 
The fortifications consisted of extensive outer works, 
within which was a strong palisaded intrenehment, well 
furnished with artillery. Donop attacked the fort with 
the utmost gallantry. The Americans, after a slight re- 
sistance in the outer intrenehment, finding their number 
too small to man it sufficientl}', withdrew into the body 
of the redoubt, where they made a vigorous defence. 

Their intrepidity and the want of scaling-ladders baffled 
all the efforts of the Hessians. Colonel Donop was mor- 
tally wounded and taken prisoner. Several of his best 
officers were killed or disabled ; Colonel Mingerode him- 
self, the second in command, received a dangerous wound. 
The Hessians were then severely repulsed ; and Lieuten- 
ant-Colonel Linsing drew them off w^ith precipitation ; 
but even in their retreat they suffered extremely by the 
fire of the enemy's galleys and floating batteries. The 
loss of the Hessians was estimated at not less than four 
or five hundred men. Donop expired of his wounds the 
next day. The Americans owed much of their success to 
the Chevalier du Plessis, a French officer, who directed 
the artillery with great ability and valor. The vanquished 
returned to Philadelphia. 



48 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossinq 

[The attack on Fort Mifflin was at first unsuccessful, but a new 
attack rendered the fort untenable. Fort Mercer was soon after so 
injured by a severe bombardment that it was necessarily abandoned. 
The navigation of the Delaware was thus opened to the British 
ships. Washington's army at this time numbered over twelve thou- 
sand regulars, and three thousand militia. Howe had about twelve 
thousand men. The former took up a strong position at White 
Marsh, while Howe faced him on Chestnut Hill. Various unsuc- 
cessful eiforts were made by Howe to draw Washington from his 
intrenchments. Finally, as it appeared that the American general 
could not be induced to give battle, Howe withdrew to place his troops 
in winter-quarters in Philadelphia. Washington marched his army 
for the same purpose to Valley Forge. W^ith these movements the 
campaign of 1777 ended.] 



THE EXPEDITION AGAINST FORT SCHUYLER. 

BENSON J. LOSSING. 

[While Washington, in the early part of 1777, was boldly facing 
the enemy in New Jersey, afiiiirs of great importance were taking 
place in the North, which were destined to prove of the utmost ad- 
vantage to the American cause. The momentous expedition of Bur- 
goyne, which was actively preparing in the spring of that year, was 
preceded by several conflicts in New England, which may be briefly 
mentioned. General Try on, the recent royal governor of New York, 
landed in Connecticut on April 25, with two thousand men, marched 
on Danbury, destroyed the stores there, burned the town, and com- 
mitted many atrocities upon the inhabitants. In retiring he was 
assailed by the militia, in detachments under Arnold, Sullivan, and 
Wooster. The British were severely harassed, and lost nearly three 
hundred men before regaining their ships. Soon afterwards a party 
of Connecticut militia, under Colonel Meigs, surprised a force of the 
enemy at Sag Harbor, destroyed the stores collected there, burned a 
dozen vessels, and captured ninety prisoners, without having a single 
man killed or wounded. But the two great events of the year were 



LossiNG] EXPEDITION AGAINST FORT SCHUYLER. 49 

the advance of Howe upon Philadelphia, and Burgoyne's expedition 
from Canada, the latter of which now demands our attention. This 
expedition had been planned during the winter by the king, Lord 
George Germain, the colonial secretary, and General Burgoyne, and 
great hopes of success were entertained from it. Burgoyne, though a 
soldier of reputation, was not the proper man to command this ex- 
pedition, which should have been intrusted to Sir Guy Carleton, who 
had opened the way for it by his victory on Lake Champlain, and 
whose perfect acquaintance with the countrj^, the Canadians, and the 
Indians would have given him exceptional advantages in its prosecution. 
Burgoyne reached Quebec in March, 1777. Carleton, though an- 
noyed at being superseded, actively aided in preparing the expedition. 
Vessels were constructed, stores collected, and a force of seven thousand 
men mustered at St. Johns, at the foot of Lake Champlain, by the 1st 
of June. Colonel St. Leger, with seven hundred Bangers, was sent to 
Oswego, to march from that point, rouse the Indians, capture Fort 
Schuyler, sweep the valley of the Mohawk, and rejoin Burgoyne at 
Albany. On June 16, Burgoyne sailed for Crown Point, with seven 
thousand regulars and several thousand Canadians and Indians. 
Thence he marched upon Ticonderoga, held by General St. Clair with 
about thi'ee thousand men. St. Clair, finding resistance hopeless, 
essayed a secret retreat, but his movement was discovered, and active 
pursuit made, and as a result of his withdrawal from Ticonderoga to 
Fort Edward, on the Hudson, he lost nearly two hundred pieces of 
artillery, and a large quantity of stores and provisions. Port Edward 
was the head-quarters of the American army, then under General 
Schuyler. Having but little over four thousand men, and these in 
a wretched state as to arms, ammunition, clothing, and provisions, 
Schuyler found it necessary to retire. In doing so he destroyed the 
bridges and obstructed the roads by felling large trees, so that Burgoyne 
was unable to reach Port Edward until the 30th of July. Schuyler, 
meanwhile, had stationed himself at the mouth of the Mohawk, where 
he received reinforcements of militia and some detachments from the 
regular army, increasing his force to thirteen thousand men. The 
Polish hero Kosciusko was chief engineer of his army. In the 
mean time, St. Leger was advancing on the route laid down for him, 
towards Port Schuyler, his first point of attack. As the siege of this 
post proved to be an event of great importance, we select a description 
of it from Lossing's " Pield-Book of the Kevolution," in which it is 
detailed with the picturesque clearness of that able writer.] 
II. — c d 5 



50 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossing 

In the spring of 1777, Colonel Peter Gansevoort was 
appointed to the command of Fort Schuyler, and held that 
post in the summer of that year, when Burgoyne was 
making his victorious march towards Albany by way of 
Lake Charaplain. ... As early as June, a man from 
Canada, arrested as a spy, had disclosed the fact that a 
detachment of British troops, Canadians, and Indians was 
to penetrate the country by way of Oswego and the 
Mohawk, to join Burgoyne when he should reach Albany. 
. . . Fort Schuyler was still unfinished, and feebly garri- 
soned, and certain discomfiture seemed to await the patriots 
in that region. Colonel Gansevoort, however, was vigilant, 
active, and hopeful. He wrote spirited letters to Gen- 
eral Schuyler, imploring aid, and that officer as urgently 
laid the condition of Tryon County before the Provincial 
Congress of 'New York, and also the General Congress. 
But it was then too late to expect succor from a distance, 
and the people of the Mohawk Valley were thrown upon 
their own feeble resources for defence. St. Leger and his 
Eangers, with the forces of Johnson, Claus, Butler, and 
Brant, were already in motion, and on the 1st of August 
the enemy, one thousand seven hundred strong, came up 
Oneida Lake, and near the ruins of old Fort Newport pre- 
pared to invest Fort Schuyler. The Indians were led by 
Brant [the celebrated Indian chief], and the whole be- 
leaguering force, at the beginning of the march at Oswego 
Falls, was disposed in admirable order for the journey 
through the forest. The main body was led by the 
Indians, under Brant, in five columns, four hundred and 
sixty paces in front of the advanced guard. The Indians 
marched in single file, at large distances apart. Between 
the five columns and the rear-guard a file of Indians, ten 
paces apai't, formed a line of communication. The ad- 
vanced guard was one hundred paces in front of the main 




AN AMERICAN RIFLEMAN. 



LossiNG] EXPEDITION AGAINST FORT SCHUYLER. 51 

column, which was disposed in Indian file, the right and 
left flanks covered by a file of savages. The rear-guard 
was composed of regular troops. . . . Each corps was 
furnished with practised marksmen at short intervals, who 
were ordered to concentrate their strength upon any point 
that might be attacked. 

[On the 2d of August the fort was reached, and its investment 
begun. On the 3d, St. Leger arrived with his whole force. The garri- 
son consisted of seven hundred and fifty men, who were well provided 
with provisions, and ammunition for small-arms, though deficient in 
ammunition for cannon, their most important means of defence. They 
were also without a flag, and were forced to make one out of bits of 
scarlet and blue clothing and white shirts, on the pattern adopted by 
Congress.] 

The siege commenced on the 4th. A few bombs were 
thrown into the fort, and the Indians, concealed behind 
trees and bushes, wounded several men who were employed 
in raising the parapets. Similar annoyances occurred on 
the 5th, and towards evening the Indians spread out 
through the woods, eneii'cled the fort, and, by hideous 
yells throughout the night, attempted to intimidate the 
garrison. St. Leger, confident of success, sent a despatch 
to Burgoyne at this juncture, expressing his assurance 
that Fort Schuyler would be in his possession directly, 
and the hope that they would speedily meet as victors 
at Albany. 

[In the mean time. General Herkimer was advancing to the aid of 
the garrison, with a force of more than eight hundred militia. He 
sent a messenger in advance, requesting Ganscvoort to signify his 
arrival by the discharge of three guns. But the messenger was de- 
layed, and the militia officers, full of ungoverned valor, so pressed 
their experienced leader to advance that he finally yielded to their im- 
portunity and taunts of cowardice, against his better judgment. He 
gave the word to " March on," but told those who had boasted of their 
courage that they would be the first to run at sight of the enemy.] 



52 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossixa 

St, Leger had intelligence of the advance of Herkimer, 
and detached a division of Johnson's Greens, under Major 
Watts, GK)lonel Butler with his Eangers, and Brant with 
a strong body of Indians, to intercept him and prevent 
an attack upon his intrenchments. Before the arrival 
of Herkimer's messenger, Gansevoort had observed the 
silence of the enemy's camp, and also the movement of a 
portion of his troojjs along the margin of a wood down 
the river. The arrival of the courier dispelled all doubts 
as to the destination of the detachment, and the signal- 
guns were immediately fired. Herkimer had informed 
Gansevoort, by the messenger, that he intended, on hear- 
ing the signals, to cut his way to the fort through the 
circumvallating camp of the enemy, and requested him to 
make a sortie at the same time. This was done as soon 
as the arrangement could be made, and a detachment of 
two hundred men . . . was detailed for the purpose, who 
took with them an iron three-pounder. Fifty men were 
also added, to pi'otect the cannon, and to act otherwise as 
circumstances might require Rain was falling copi- 
ously while preparations for the sortie were in progi-ess, 
but the moment it ceased Willett sallied out and fell furi- 
ously upon that portion of the camp occupied by Sir 
John Johnson and his Royal Greens, a detachment of 
whom, as we have seen, had been sent to oppose the ap- 
proach of Herkimer. The advanced guard, unable to 
withstand the impetuosity of the attack, was driven in ; 
and so suddenly was Sir John's camp assailed that he 
was not allowed time to put on his coat. He endeavored 
to bring his troops into order, but they fled in dismay. 
The Indian camp was then assaulted, and in a few mo- 
ments the savages, too, were scattered. Sir John and his 
troops fled across the river, to the temporary camp of St. 
Leger, and the Indians buried themselves in the deep 



Lossikg] expedition AGAINST FORT SCHUYLER. 53 

forest near. No less than twenty-one wagon-loads of spoil, 
consisting of clothing, blankets, stores, camp-equipage, 
five British standards, the baggage of Sir John, with all 
his papers, and those of other officers, containing every 
kind of information necessary to the gari'ison, were cap- 
tured. Having secured their prize, Willett and his party 
returned to the fort without the loss of a man. The five 
British colors were raised in full view of the enemy, upon 
the flag-staif, beneath the uncouth American standard, and 
the whole garrison, mounting the parapets, made the forest 
ring with three loud cheers. This chivalrous exploit was 
duly noticed by Congress, and an elegant sword was pre- 
sented to Colonel Willett in the name of the United States. 
General Herkimer, in the mean while, had moved from 
the mills, at the mouth of Oriskany Creek, toward the 
fort, entirely unconscious of the ambuscade that, in a 
deep ravine two miles distant, awaited his approach. The 
morning was dark, sultry, and lowering. His troops, com- 
posed chiefly of the militia regiments of Colonels Cox, 
Paris, Visscher, and Klock, were quite undisciplined, and 
their order of march was irregular and without precaution. 
The contentions of the morning had delayed their advance 
until about nine o'clock, and the hai'd feelings that existed 
between the commander and some of his ofiicers caused a 
degree of insubordination which proved fatal in its conse- 
quences. Brant and his tory associates had learned from 
their scouts the exact route the patriots had taken, and 
arranged an ambuscade accordingly. A deep ravine crossed 
the path of Herkimer in a north-and-south direction, ex- 
tending from the high grounds on the south to the river, 
and curved toward the east in a semicircular form. The 
bottom of this ravine was marshy, and the road crossed it 
by means of a causeway of earth and logs. On each side 
of the ravine the ground was nearly level, and heavily 
II. 5* 



54 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossinq 

timbered. A thick growth of underwood, particular!}' 
along the margin of the ravine, favored concealment. It 
was upon the high ground on the western side of this 
ravine that the ambush of tories and Indians was laid, 
in such a manner that the causewa}^ was surrounded by 
them, as by a circle, leaving only a small segment open 
where the road entered. Unsuspicious of the proximitj' 
of the enemy, the whole body of provincials, except the 
rear-guard, composed of Visscher's regiment, descended 
into the ravine, followed by the baggage-wagons. Brant 
gave a signal, and in an instant the circle closed, the war- 
whoop was sounded, and spear and hatchet and deadly 
rifle-ball fell upon the patriots like hail from the clouds 
that hovered over them. The rear-guard, in fulfilment of 
Herkimer's prediction, instantly fled, and left their com- 
jmnions in the ravine to their fate. They were pursued 
by the Indians, and probably suff'ered more in their cow- 
ardly flight than if they had boldl}^ aided their environed 
companions in arms. 

This sudden onslaught produced great confusion in the 
patriot ranks, but they soon recovered, and fought with 
the courage and skill of veteran troops. The slaughter, 
however, was dreadful. Herkimer was severely wounded 
at the commencement of the action, and Colonel Cox and 
Captain Yan Slyk were killed at the fii"st fire. A musket- 
ball i^assed through and killed the horse of the general, 
and shattered his own leg just below the knee. With per- 
fect composure and cool courage, he ordered the saddle 
to be taken from his slaughtered horse and placed against 
a large beech-tree near. Seated there, with his men falling 
like autumn foliage, and the bullets of the enemy, like 
driving sleet, whistling around him, the intrepid general 
calmly gave his orders, and thus nobly rebuked the slan- 
derers who called him a cowai'd. 



LossiNGj EXPEDITION AGAINST FORT SCHUYLER. 55 

For nearly an hour the fierce action continued, and by 
slow degrees the enemy was closing in upon the republi- 
cans. The latter then made an admirable change in their 
method of repulsion. They formed themselves into cir- 
cles, and thus met the enemy at all points. Their fire 
became so destructive in this way that the Johnson Greens 
and a portion of Butler's tories attempted a bayonet- 
charge. This was promptl}' met by the patriots, and the 
battle assumed the terrible form of a death-struggle in close 
personal contact. ... At this moment a heavy thunder- 
peal broke over the forest, and the rain came down in 
such torrents that the combatants ceased their strife, 
and sought shelter beneath the trees. It was during this 
heavy shower that Willett made his preparations at the 
fort for the successful sortie just noticed; and, as soon as 
the rain subsided, he fell upon Johnson's camp, and the 
battle was renewed at Oriskany. 

During the lull in the conflict both parties viewed the 
ground, and made new arrangements for attack and de- 
fence. It had been observed by the patriots that the In- 
dians, as soon as they saw a gun fired by a provincial 
from behind a tree, would rush forward and tomahawk 
him before he could i^eload. To meet such an exigency in 
the renewed conflict, two men stood together behind a 
tree, and, while one fired, the other awaited the approach 
of the savage with his tomahawk, and felled him with his 
bullet. The provincials had also made choice of more 
advantageous ground, and soon after the renewal of the 
fight so destructive was their fire that the Indians began 
to give way. Major Watts came up with a detachment 
of Johnson's Greens to support them, but the presence of 
these men, mostly refugees from the Mohawk, made the 
patriots more furious, and mutual resentments, as the par- 
ties faced and recognized each other, seemed to give new 



56 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossinq 

strength to their arms. They leaped upon each other 
with the fierceness of tigers, and fought hand to hand and 
foot to foot with bayonets and knives. It was a terrible 
struggle, and exhibited the peculiar cruelty and brutality 
which distinguishes civil war. 

A firing was now heard in the direction of the fort. It 
was the attack of Willett upon the enemy's camp. Col- 
onel Butler instantly conceived a stratagem, and was nearly 
successful in its execution. He so changed the dress of 
a detachment of Johnson's Greens that they appeared like 
American troops. These were made to approach from the 
direction of the fort, and were at first (as intended by 
Butler) mistaken by the patriots for a reinforcement from 
the garrison. But the quick eye of Captain Gardinier, 
an officer who performed deeds of great valor on that 
memorable day, discovered their real chai'acter, and, order- 
ing his men to fall upon these pretended friends, they were 
soon scattered in confusion. The Indians, finding their 
ranks greatly thinned, and the provincials still undismayed, 
raised the loud retreating crj', ^'■Oonah! Oonah !" and fled 
in all directions. The panic was communicated to the 
tories and Canadians, and the whole force of the enemy 
retreated in confusion, pursued by the provincials with 
shouts of victory. Thus, after a conflict of six hours, 
ended the battle of Oriskany, the bloodiest encounter, in 
proportion to the numbers engaged, that occurred during 
the war. 

[Neither party could claim a decisive victory, since, though the 
Americans held the field, they were unahle to relieve the fort, which 
was the object of their march. Both had suffered severely. General 
Herkimer died ten days after the battle. The garrison continued so 
closely environed that they were unable to gain correct intelligence 
of the result of the battle. St. Leger endeavored to deceive them, by 
sending in false representations of victory and of Burgoyne's success. 
In this he failed, and Gansevoort repelled his demands for a surrender 



LossiNG] EXPEDITION AGAINST FORT SCHUYLER. 57 

Yet, fearing that this would be his final fate, he sent messengers to 
General Schuyler, imploring succor. It was a dangerous mission, yet 
men were found willing to undertake it.] 

Colonel "Willett volunteered to be the messenger, and 
on a very stormy night, when shower after shower came 
down furiously, he and Lieutenant Slockwell left the fort 
by the sally-port at ten o'clock, each armed with a spear, 
and crept upon their hands and knees along a morass to 
the river. They crossed it upon a log, and were soon 
beyond the line of drowsy sentinels. It was very dark, 
their pathway was in a thick and tangled wood, and they 
soon lost their way. The barking of a dog apprised them 
of their proximity to an Indian canijD, and for hours they 
stood still, fearing to advance or retreat. The clouds broke 
away towards dawn, and the morning star in the cast, like 
the light of hope, revealed to them their desired course. 
They then pushed on in a zigzag way, and, like the In- 
dians, sometimes traversed the bed of a stream, to foil 
pursuers that might be upon their trail. They reached the 
German Flats in safety, and, mounting fleet horses, hurried 
down the valley to the head-quarters of General Schuyler, 
who had already heard of the defeat of Herkimer, and 
was devising means for the succor of the garrison at Fort 
Schuyler. 

St. Leger continued the siege. He advanced, by paral- 
lels, within one hundred and Mty yards of the fort, and 
the garrison, ignorant of the fate of Willett and Stockwell, 
or the relief that was preparing for them below, began 
to feel uneasy. Their ammunition and provisions being 
much reduced in quantity, some hinted an opinion to the 
commander that a surrender would be humane policy. 
Gansevoort's stout and hopeful heart would not yield 
admission to such an idea, and he informed the garrison 
that he had resolved, in case succor should not appear 



58 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossing 

before their supplies were exhausted, to sally out at iiight 
and cut bis way tbrougb the enemy's camp. Suddenly, 
and mysteriously to the garrison, the besiegers broke up 
their camp, and fled so precipitately from before the fort 
that they left their tents, artillery, and camp-equipage 
behind them. 

[The m^'stery was soon solved. General Arnold had volunteered 
to lead a force to the relief of the fort. Fearing that it would be cap- 
tured before his main body could arrive, he pushed forward with a 
detachment, conceiving a stratagem which proved remai-kably success- 
ful. A tory prisoner, ignorant and half idiotic, named Hon- Yost 
Schuyler, had been condemned to death. Arnold promised him his 
life if he would go to St. Leger's camp and represent that a large host 
of Americans were approaching. He held his brother as a hostage, 
while Hon- Yost, with a friendly Oneida Indian, set out for St. Leger's 
camp.] 

Before leaving Fort Dayton, Hon-Yost had several bul- 
lets shot through his coat, and with these evidences of a 
" terrible engagement with the enemy" he appeared among 
the Indians of St. Leger's camp, many of whom knew 
him personally. He ran into their midst almost out of 
breath, and apparently much frightened. He told them 
that the Americans were approaching in great numbers, 
and that he had barely escaped with his life. His bullet- 
riddled coat confirmed the story. When they inquired 
the number of the Americans, he pointed to the leaves on 
the trees, and shook his head mysteriously. The Indians 
were greatlj' agitated. They had been decoyed into their 
present situation, and had been moody and uneasy since 
the battle of Oriskany. At the moment of Hon- Yost's 
arrival they were engaged in a I'eligious observance, — a 
consultation, through their prophet, of Manitou, or the 
Great Spirit, to supplicate his guidance and protection. 
The council of chiefs at the pow-wow at once resolved 



LossiNG] EXPEDITION AGAINST FORT SCHUYLER. 59 

upon flight, and told St. Leger so. He sent for and ques- 
tioned Hon- Yost, who told him that Arnold, with two 
thousand men, would be upon him in twenty-four hours. 
At that moment, according to arrangement, the friendly 
Oneida, who had taken a circuitous route, approached the 
camp from another direction, with a belt. On his way he 
met two or three straggling Indians of his tribe, who 
joined him, and they all confirmed the story of Hon- Yost. 
They pretended that a bird had brought them the news 
that the valley below was swarming with warriors. One 
said that the army of Burgoyne was cut to pieces, and 
another told St. Leger that Arnold had three thousand 
men near. They shook their heads mysteriously when 
questioned about numbers by the Indians, and pointed, 
like Hon-Yost, upward to the leaves. The savages, now 
thoroughly alarmed, prepared to flee. St. Leger tried 
every means, by offers of bribes and promises, to induce 
them to remain, but the panic, and suspicion of foul pla}', 
had determined them to go. He tried to make them 
drunk, but they refused to drink. He then besought 
them to take the rear of his army in retreating: this 
they refused, and indignantly said, " You mean to sacrifice 
us. When you marched down, you said there would be 
no fighting for us Indians ; we might go down and smoke 
our pipes ; whereas numbers of our warriors have been 
killed, and you mean to sacrifice us also." The council 
broke up, and the Indians fled. The panic was communi- 
cated to the rest of the camp, and in a few hours the 
beleaguering army was flying in terror towards their boats 
on Oneida Lake. Hon-Yost accompanied them in their 
flight as far as "Wood Creek, where he managed to desert. 
He found his way back to the fort that night, and was 
the first to communicate to Colonel Gansevoort the intelli- 
gence of Arnold's approach. The Indians, it is said, made 



60 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Creasy 

themselves merry at the precipitate flight of the whites, 
who threw away their arms and knapsacks, so that noth- 
ing should impede their progress. The savages also grati- 
fied their passion for murder and plunder by killing many 
of their retreating allies on the borders of the lake, and 
stripping them of every article of value. They also plun- 
dered them of their boats, and, according to St. Leger, " be- 
came more formidable than the enemy they had to expect." 
Half starved and naked, the whites of the scattered army 
made their way to Oswego, and, with St. Leger, went 
down Ontai'io to Canada. . . . Thus ended the siege of 
Fort Schuyler, in the progress of which the courage, en- 
durance, and skill of the Americans, everywhere so re- 
markable in the Eevolution, were fully displayed. 



THE SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. 

SIR EDWARD S. CREASY. 

[The story of Burgoyne's expedition we have already partly told, in 
the fate of its detachment against Fort Schuyler. The main army we 
have traced in its course as far as Fort Edward. So far it had met 
with uniform success. It was now destined to encounter irrepa- 
rable misfortunes. Its commander, General Burgojme, had gained 
a degree of celebrity by dashing exploits in Portugal during the late 
war in that region. Personally he was distinguished for courage, was 
an admirable tactician, and was intellectually a very able man. Among 
his officers were Generals Phillips and Fraser, both able and experi- 
enced soldiei-s. His army was a fine one, well appointed, and rein- 
forced by a large force of Canadians and Indians whom he had called 
to his aid. General Schuyler, who commanded against him, was re- 
moved before the two armies came to blows, and replaced by General 
Gates. Meanwhile, Sir Henry Clinton was ascending the Hudson, 
with the purpose of making connection with Burgoyne, and thus as- 



Creasy] THE SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. 61 

suring the success of the important enterprise. The succeeding events 
we select from the admirable " Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World," 
by Sir Edward Creasy.] 

The war which rent away the North American colonies 
from England is, of all subjects in histoiy, the most pain- 
ful for an Englishman to dwell on. It was commenced 
and carried on by the British ministry in iniquity and 
folly, and it was concluded in disaster and shame. But 
the contemplation of it cannot be evaded by the historian, 
however much it may be abhorred. Nor can any military 
event be said to have exercised more important influence 
on the future fortunes of mankind than the complete de- 
feat of Burgoyne's expedition in 1777, — a defeat which 
rescued the revolted colonists from certain subjection, and 
which, by inducing the courts of France and Spain to 
attack England in their behalf, insured the independence 
of the United States, and the formation of that trans- 
Atlantic power which not only America but both Europe 
and Asia now see and feel 

[Seven thousand veterans were sent out from England for this ex- 
pedition, which was accompanied by two or three thousand Canadians 
and a large body of Indians, whom Burgoyne had induced to join his 
army.] 

It was intended that the force thus collected should 
march southward by the line of the lakes, and thence 
along the banks of the Hudson Eiver. The British army 
from New York (or a large detachment of it) was to make 
a simultaneous movement northward, up the line of the 
Hudson, and the two expeditions were to unite at Albany, 
a town on that river. By these operations, all communi- 
cation between the Northern colonies and those of the 
centre and South would be cut off". An irresistible force 
would be concentrated, so as to crush all further opposition 
in New England ; and when this was done, it was believed 
ir. 6 



62 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Creasy 

that the other colonies would speedily submit. The 
Americans had no troops in the field that seemed able to 
baffle these movements. Their principal army, under 
Washington, was occupied in watching over Pennsylvania 
and the South. At any rate, it was believed that, in order 
to oppose the plan intended for the new campaign, the 
insurgents must risk a pitched battle, in which the supe- 
riority of the royalists, in numbers, in discipline, and in 
equipment, seemed to promise to the latter a crowning 
victory. Without question, the plan was ably formed; 
and had the success of the execution been equal to the 
ingenuity of the design, the reconquest or submission of 
the thirteen United States must in all probability have 
followed, and the independence which they proclaimed in 
1776 would have been extinguished before it existed a 
second year. No European power had as yet come for- 
ward to aid America. It is true that England was gen- 
erally regarded with jealousy and ill will, and was thought 
to have acquired, at the treaty of Paris, a preponderance 
of dominion which was pei*ilous to the balance of power; 
but, though many were willing to wound, none had yet 
ventured to strike ; and America, if defeated in 1777, 
would have been suffered to fall unaided. 

;!< >;< ;i< :^ :^ :4; >1< 

Burgoyne reached the left bank of the Hudson Eiver on 
the 30th of July. Hitherto he had overcome every diffi- 
culty which the enemy and the nature of the country had 
placed in his way. His army was in excellent order and 
in the highest spirits, and the peril of the expedition 
seemed over when they were once on the bank of the 
river which was to be the channel of communication be- 
tween them and the British army in the South. 

[The success of this march had been viewed by the Americans with 
the greatest alarm, and every effort was made to raise an army to repel 
the triumphant foe.] 



Creasy] THE SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. 63 

The local governments of the New England States, as 
well as the Congress, acted with vigor and firmness" in 
their efforts to repel the enemy. General Gates was sent 
to take the command of the army at Saratoga; and Ar- 
nold, a favorite leader of the Americans, was despatched 
by Washington to act under him, with reinforcements of 
troops and guns from the main American army. Bur- 
goyne's employment of the Indians now produced the 
worst possible effects. Though he had labored hard to 
check the atrocities which they were accustomed to com- 
mit, he could not prevent the occurrence of many barbar- 
ous outrages, repugnant both to the feelings of humanity 
and to the laws of civilized warfare. The American com- 
manders took care that the reports of these excesses 
should be circulated far and wide, well knowing that they 
would make the stern New Englanders not droop, but 
rage. . . . 

While resolute recruits, accustomed to the use of fire- 
arms, and all partially trained by service in the provincial 
militias, were flocking to the standard of Gates and Ar- 
nold at Saratoga, and while Burgoyne was engaged at 
Fort Edward in providing the means for the further ad- 
vance of his army through the intricate and hostile coun- 
try that still lay before him, two events occurred, in, each 
of which the British sustained loss and the Americans 
obtained advantage, the moral effects of which wei'e even 
more important than the immediate result of the en- 
counters. . . . 

[One of these events was that last described, the siege and relief of 
Fort Schuyler. The panic flight of St. Leger's force was the first check 
to the triumphant march of the enemy.] 

At the very time that General Burgoyne heard of this 
disaster he experienced one still more severe, in the defeat 
of Colonel Baura, with a Xqxsq detachment of German 



64 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Creasy 

troops, at Bennington, whither Burgoyne had sent them 
for the purpose of capturing some magazines of provis- 
ions, of which the British army stood greatly in need. 
The Americans, augmented by continual accessions of 
strength, succeeded, after man}^ attacks, in breaking this 
corps, which fled into the woods and left its commander 
mortally wounded on the field : they then marched against 
a force of five hundred grenadiers and light infantrj^ which 
was advancing to Colonel Baum's assistance under Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Brej^man, who, after a gallant resistance, 
was obliged to retreat on the main army. The British 
loss in these two actions exceeded six hundred men ; and 
a party of American loyalists on their way to join the 
army, having attached themselves to Colonel Baum's corps, 
were destroyed with it. 

Notwithstanding these reverses, which added greatly to 
the spirit and numbers of the American forces, Burgoyne 
determined to advance. It was impossible any longer to 
keep up his communication with Canada by way of the 
lakes, so as to supply his army on his southward march ; 
but, having by unremitting exertions collected provisions 
for thirty days, he crossed the Hudson by means of a 
bridge of rafts, and marching a short distance along its 
western bank, he encamped on the 14th of September on 
the heights of Saratoga, about sixteen miles from Albany. 
The Americans had fallen back from Saratoga, and were 
now strongly posted near Stillwater, about half-way be- 
tween Saratoga and Alban}-, and showed a determination 
to recede no farther. 

[Meanwhile, Clinton was ascending the Hudson, with about three 
thousand men, convoyed by some ships of war, with the design of 
forcing his way past the American defences of the river.] 

The country between Burgoyne's position at Saratoga 
and that of the Americans at Stillwater was rugged, and 



Creasy] THE SURRENDER OF BURGOVNE. 65 

seamed with creeks and watercourses ; but, after great 
labor in making bridges and temporary causeways, the 
British army moved forward. About four miles from 
Saratoga, on the afternoon of the 19th of September, a 
sharp encounter took place between part of the English 
right wing, under Burgoyne himself, and a strong bod}' 
of the enemy, under Gates and Arnold. The conflict lasted 
till sunset. The British remained masters of the field ; but 
the loss on each side was nearly equal (from five hundred 
to six hundred men), and the spirits of the Americans 
were greatly raised by having withstood the best regular 
troops of the Enghsh array. Burgoyne now halted again, 
and strengthened his position by field-works and redoubts ; 
and the Americans also improved their defences. The two 
armies remained nearly within cannon-shot of each other 
for a considerable time, during which Burgoyne was anx- 
iously looking for intelligence of the promised expedition 
from New York, which, according to the original plan, 
ought bj' this time to have been approaching Albany from 
the south. At last a messenger from Clinton made his> 
way, with great difficulty, to Burgoyne's camp, and brought 
the information that Clinton was on his way up the Hud- 
son to attack the American forts which barred the pas- 
sage up that river to Albany. Burgoyne, in reply, stated 
his hopes that the promised co-operation would be- speedy 
and decisive, and added that unless he received assistance 
before the 10th of October he would be obliged to retreat 
to the lakes through want of provisions. 

The Indians and Canadians now began to desert Bur- 
goyne, while, on the other hand, Gates's army was con- 
tinually reinforced by fresh bodies of the militia. An ex- 
peditionary force was detached by the Americans which 
made a bold though unsuccessful attempt to retake Ticon- 
deroga. Finding the number and spirit of the enemy to 
II.— e G* 



66 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Creasy 

increase daily, and his own stores of provisions to dimin- 
ish, Burgoyne determined on attacking the Americans in 
front of him, and, by dislodging them from their position, 
to gain the means of moving upon Albany, or, at least, of 
relieving his troops from the straitened position in which 
they were cooped up. 

Burgoyne's force was now reduced to less than six 
thousand men. The right of his camp was on some high 
ground a little to the west of the river ; thence his in- 
trenchments extended along the lower ground to the bank 
of the Hudson, their line being nearly at a right angle 
with the course of the stream. The lines were fortified 
in the centre and on the left with redoubts and field-works. 
The numerical force of the Americans was now greater 
than the British, even in regular troops, and the numbers 
of the militia and volunteers which had joined Gates and 
Arnold were greater still. The right of the American 
position, that is to say, the part of it nearest to the river, 
was too strong to be assailed with any prospect of success, 
and Burgoyne therefore determined to endeavor to force 
their left. For this purpose he formed a column of fifteen 
hundred regular troops, with two twelve-pounders, two 
howitzers, and six six-pounders. He headed this in per- 
son, having Generals Phillips, Eiedesel, and Fraser under 
him. The enemy's force immediately in front of his lines 
was so strong that he dared not weaken the troops who 
guarded them by detaching any more to strengthen his 
column of attack. The right of the camp was commanded 
by Generals Hamilton and Spaight; the left part of it was 
committed to the charge of Brigadier GoU. 

It was on the 7th of October that Burgoyne led his 
column on to the attack ; and on the preceding day, the 
6th, Clinton had successfull}^ executed a brilliant enter- 
prise against the two American forts which barred his 



Creasy] THE SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. 67 

progress up the Hudson. He had captured them both, 
Avith severe loss to the American forces opposed to him ; 
he had destroyed the fleet which the Americans had been 
forming on the Hudson, under the protection of their 
forts ; and the upward river was laid open to his squad- 
ron. He was now only a hundred and fifty-six miles dis- 
tant from Burgoyne, and a detachment of seventeen hun- 
dred men actually advanced within forty miles of Albany. 
Unfortunately, Burgoyne and Clinton were each ignorant 
of the other's movements ; but if Burgoyne had won his 
battle on the 7th he must, on advancing, have soon learned 
the tidings of Clinton's success, and Clinton would have 
heard of his. A junction would soon have been made of 
the two victorious armies, and the great objects of the cam- 
paign might yet have been accomplished. All depended on 
the fortune of the column with which Burgoyne, on the 
eventful 7th of October, 1777, advanced against the Ameri- 
can position. There were brave men, both English and 
German, in its ranks ; and, in particular, it comprised one 
of the best bodies of grenadiers in the British service. 

Burgoyne pushed forward some bodies of irregular 
troops to distract the enemy's attention, and led his col- 
umn to within three-quarters of a mile from the left of 
Gates's camp, and then deployed his men into line. The 
grenadiers under Major Ackland were drawn up on the 
left, a corps of Germans in the centre, and the English 
light infantry and the 24th regiment on the right. But 
Gates did not wait to be attacked ; and directly the Brit- 
ish line was formed and began to advance, the American 
general, with admirable skill, caused a strong force to make 
a sudden and vehement rush against its left. The gren- 
adiers under Ackland sustained the charge of superior 
numbers nobly. But Gates sent more Americans forward, 
and in a few minutes the action became general along 



68 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Creasy 

the centre, so as to prevent the Germans from sending 
any help to the grenadiers. Burgojne's right was not 
yet engaged ; but a mass of the enemy were observed ad- 
vancing from their extreme left, with the evident intention 
of turning the British right and cutting off its retreat. 
The light infantry and the 24th now fell back, and formed 
an oblique second line, which enabled them to baffle this 
manoeuvi'e, and also to succor their comrades in the left 
wing, the gallant grenadiers, who were overpowered by 
sujDcrior numbers, and, but for this aid, must have been 
cut to pieces. Arnold now came up with three American 
regiments, and attacked the right flanks of the English 
double line. Burgoyne's whole force was soon compelled 
to retreat towards their camp ; the left and centre were 
in complete disorder ; but the light infantry and the 24th 
checked the fury of the assailants, and the remains of 
Burgoyne's column with great difficulty effected their re- 
turn to their camp, leaving six of their guns in the i^os- 
session of the enemy, and great numbers of killed and 
wounded on the field ; and especially a large proportion 
of the artillerymen, who had stood to their guns until 
shot down or bayoneted beside them by the advancing 
Americans. 

Burgoyne's column had been defeated, but the action 
was not yet over. The English had scarcely entered the 
camp, when the Americans, pursuing their success, as- 
saulted it in several places with uncommon fierceness, 
rushing to the lines through a severe fire of grape-shot 
and musketry with the utmost fury. Arnold, especially, 
who on this day appeared maddened with the thirst of 
combat and carnage, urged on the attack against a part 
of the intrenchments which Avas occupied by the light 
infantry under Lord Balcarras. But the English received 
him with vigor and spirit. The struggle here was obsti- 



Creasy] THE SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. 69 

nate and sanguinary. At length, as it grew towards even- 
in o-, Arnold, having forced all obstacles, entered the works 
with some of the most fearless of his followers. But in 
this critical moment of glory and danger he received a 
painful wound in the same leg which had already been 
wounded in the assault on Quebec. To his bitter regret, 
he was obliged to be carried back. His party still con- 
tinued the attack ; but the English also continued their 
obstinate resistance, and at last night fell, and the assail- 
ants withdrew from this quarter of the British intrench- 
ments. But in another part the attack had been more 
successful. A body of the Americans, under Colonel 
Brooke, forced their way in through a part of the in- 
trenchments on the extreme right, which was defended by 
the German reserve under Colonel Breyman. The Ger- 
mans resisted well, and Breyman died in defence of his 
post; but the Americans made good the ground which 
they had won, and captured baggage, tents, artillery, and 
a store of ammunition, which they were greatly in need 
of. They had, by establishing themselves on this point, 
acquired the means of completely turning the right flank 
of the British and gaining their rear. To prevent this 
calamity, Burgoyne effected during the night a complete 
change of position. With great skill, he removed his 
whole army to some heights near the river, a little north- 
ward of the former camp, and he there drew up his men, 
expecting to be attacked on the following day. But Gates 
was resolved not to risk the certain triumph which his 
success had already secured for him. He harassed the 
English with skirmishes, but attempted no regular attack. 
Meanwhile, he detached bodies of troops on both sides 
of the Hudson to prevent the British from recrossing the 
river and to bar their retreat. When night fell, it became 
absolutely necessary for Burgoyne to retire again, and ac- 



70 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Creasy 

cordingly the troops were marched through a stormy and 
rainy night towards Saratoga, abandoning their sick and 
wounded and the greater part of their baggage to the 
enemy. 

Before tlie rear-guard quitted the camp, the last sad 
honors were paid to the brave General Fraser, who had 
been mortally wounded on the 7th, and expired on the 
following day. The funeral of this gallant soldier is thus 
described by the Italian historian Botta : 

" Towards midnight the body of General Eraser was 
buried in the British camp. His brother officers gathered 
sadly round while the funeral service was read over the 
remains of their brave comrade, and his body was com- 
mitted to the hostile earth. The ceremony, always mourn- 
ful and solemn of itself, was rendei-ed even terrible by the 
sense of recent losses, of present and future dangers, and 
of regret for the deceased. Meanwhile, the blaze and roar 
of the American artiller}' amid the natural dai'kness and 
stillness of the night came on the senses with startling 
awe. The grave had been dug within range of the enemj-'s 
batteries ; and while the service was proceeding, a cannon- 
ball struck the ground close to the coffin, and spattered 
earth over the face of the officiating chaplain." 

Burgoyne now took up his last position on the heights 
near Saratoga; and hemmed in by the enemy, who refused 
an}' encounter, and baffled in all his attempts at finding a 
path of escape, he there lingered until famine compelled 
him to capitulate. The fortitude of the British army 
during this melancholy jieriod has been justly eulogized 
b}- many native historians, but I prefer quoting the tes- 
timony of a foreign writer, as free from all possibility of 
l)artialit3'. Botta says, — 

" It exceeds the power of words to describe the pitiable 
condition to which the British army was now reduced. 



Creasy] THE SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. 71 

The troops were worn down by a series of toil, privation, 
sickness, and desperate fighting. They were abandoned 
by the Indians and Canadians, and the effective force of 
the whole army was now diminished by repeated and 
heavy losses, which had principally fallen on the best sol- 
diers and the most distinguished ofiicers, from ten thou- 
sand combatants to less than one-half that number. Of 
this remnant little more than three thousand were English. 

" In these circumstances, and thus weakened, they were 
invested by an army of four times their number, whose 
position extended three parts of a circle round them ; who 
refused to fight them, as knowing their weakness, and who, 
from the nature of the ground, could not be attacked in 
any part. In this helpless condition, obliged to be con- 
stantlj' under arms, w^hile the enemy's cannon played on 
every part of their camp, and even the American rifle- 
balls whistled in many parts of the lines, the troops of 
Burgoyne retained their customary firmness, and, while 
sinking under a hard necessity', they showed themselves 
worthy of a better fate. They could not be reproached 
with an action or a word which betrayed a >\'ant of temper 
or fortitude." 

At length the 13th of October arrived, and, as no pros- 
pect of assistance appeared, and the provisions were nearly 
exhausted, Burgoyne, by the unanimous advice of a coun- 
cil of war, sent a messenger to the American camp to treat 
of a convention. 

General Gates in the first instance demanded that the 
royal army should surrender prisoners of war. He also 
proposed that the British should ground their arms. Bur- 
goyne replied, " This article is inadmissible in every ex- 
tremity : sooner than this army will consent to ground 
their arms in their encampment, they will rush on the 
enemy, determined to take no quarter." After various 



\ 



72 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Creasy 

messages, a convention for the surrender of the army was 
settled, which provided that " the troops under General 
Burgoj-ne were to march out of their camp with the 
honors of war, and the artillery of the intrenchments, to 
the verge of the river, where the arras and artillery were 
to be left. The arms to be piled by word of command from 
their own oflSeers. A free passage was to be granted to 
the army under Lieutenant-General Burgoyne to Great 
Britain, upon condition of not serving again in North 
America during the present contest." 

The articles of capitulation were settled on the 15th of 
October ; and on that very evening a messenger arrived 
from Clinton with an account of his successes, and with 
the tidings that part of his force had penetrated as far as 
Esopus, within fifty miles of Burgojme's camp. But it 
was too late. The public faith was pledged ; and the army 
was indeed too debilitated by fatigue and hunger to resist 
an attack, if made ; and Gates certainly would have made 
it if the convention had been broken off. Accordingl}", 
on the 17th, the convention of Saratoga was carried into 
effect. By this convention five thousand seven hundred 
and ninety men surrendered themselves as prisoners. The 
sick and wounded left in the camp when the British re- 
treated to Saratoga, together with the numbers of the 
British, German, and Canadian troops who were killed, 
wounded, or taken, and who had deserted in the preceding 
part of the expedition, were reckoned to be four thousand 
six hundred and eighty-nine. 

[The British sick and wounded were treated with great humanity, 
and Gates showed much delicacy of feeling in his intercourse with his 
captives, avoiding every indication of triumphant display. Congress 
long refused to carry out the provision for the transportation of Bur- 
goyne's men to Europe, though Gates was in no sense responsible for 
this. The news of the victory was received with the utmost joy and 



Irving] WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE. 73 

enthusiasm throughout America, and produced a radical change in the 
attitude of the Europeans. France, in particuhir, at once consented 
to the treaty, which had been long delayed, and the negotiations 
towards which had been almost broken oif by the preceding tidings 
of the victorious march of Burgoyne towards Albany.] 



WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE, 

WASHINGTON IRVING. 

[The winter passed by the American army at Valley Forge was a 
severe one. The troops were worn out with hard service, and greatly 
needed rest. They were poorly clad, and almost destitute of blankets, 
and needed more than tents to protect them from the inclemency of 
the weather, while it was of great importance to remain within reach- 
ing distance of Philadelphia and the enemy. The plan adopted by 
Washington was to build huts for the army at Valley Forge, near the 
Schuylkill, and about twenty miles from Philadelphia. Here he could 
keep a vigihint eye on the city, and protect a wide stretch of country. 
It was a sad and dreary march to Valley Forge. The men were cold 
and hungry, provisions were scanty, clothing was worn out, while the 
exposed feet of many tracked the ground with blood. Yet quantities 
of stores were lying at various points, perishing for want of teams and 
of monej^ to pay teamsters. Huts were rapidly constructed, and a mili- 
tary village was formed, in which the soldiers were to some degree pro- 
tected from the wintry weather. But they continued to suffer severely 
from want of all the other necessaries of life. Irving's " Life of Wash- 
ington" furnishes us a graphic story of life in this winter camp, and 
of the winter life of the British in Philadelphia.] 

During the winter's encampment in Valley Forge, Wash- 
ington sedulously applied himself to the formation of a new 
system for the army. At his earnest solicitation Congress 
appointed a committee of five, called the Committee of 
Arrangement, to repair to the camp and assist him in the 
task. Before their arrival he had collected the written 

II. — D 7 



74 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving 

opinions and suggestions of his officers on the subject, and 
from these, and his own observations and exiJerience, had 
prepared a docunient exhibiting the actual slate of the 
army, the defects of previous systems, and the alterations 
and reforms that were necessary. The committee remained 
three months with him in camp, and then made a report 
to Congress founded on his statement. The reforms therein 
recommended were generally adopted. On one point, how- 
ever, there was much debate. Washington had urged that 
the pay of the officers was insufficient for their decent 
subsistence, especially during the actual depreciation of 
the currency, and that many resignations were the conse- 
quence. He recommended not only that their pay should 
be increased, but that there should be a provision made 
for their future support, by half-pay and a pensionary- 
establishment, so as to secure them from being absolutely 
impoverished in the service of their country. 

This last recommendation had to encounter a groat jeal- 
ousy of the army on the part of Congress, and all that 
Washington could effect by strenuous and unremitted ex- 
ertions was a kind of compromise, according to which 
officers were to receive half-j)ay for seven years after the 
war, and non-commissioned officers and privates eighty 
dollars each. 

The reforms adopted were slow in going into operation. 
In the mean time, the distresses of the army continued to 
increase. The surrounding country for a great distance 
was exhausted, and had the appearance of having been 
pillaged. In some places where the inhabitants had pro- 
visions and cattle they denied it, intending to take them 
to Philadelphia, where they could obtain greater prices. 
The undisturbed communication with the city had cor- 
rupted the minds of the people in its vicinage. " This 
State is sick even unto death," said Gouverneur Morris. 



Irving] WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE. 75 

The parties sent out to forage too often returned empty- 
handed. " For some days past there has been little less 
than a famine in the camp," writes Washington, on one 
occasion. " A part of the army has been a week without 
any kind of flesh, and the rest three or four days. Naked 
and starving as they are, we cannot enough admire the 
incomparable patience and fidelity of the soldiery, that 
they have not been, ere this, excited by their suffering to 
a general mutiny and desertion." 

The committee, in their report, declared that the want 
of straw had cost the lives of many of the troops. " Un- 
provided with this, or materials to raise them from the 
cold and wet earth, sickness and mortality have spread 
through their quarters in an astonishing degree. Nothing 
can equal their sufferings, except the patience and forti- 
tude with which the faithful part of the army endure 
them." A British historian cites as a proof of the great 
ascendency of Washington over his " raw and undisciplined 
troops," that so many remained with him throughout the 
winter in this wretched situation and still more wretched 
plight, almost naked, often on short allowance, with great 
sickness and mortality, and a scarcity of medicines, their 
horses perishing by hundreds from hunger and the severity 
of the season. 

He gives a striking picture of the indolence and luxury 
which reigned at the same time in the British army in 
Philadelphia. It is true, the investment of the city by 
the Americans rendered provisions dear and fuel scanty; 
but the consequent privations were felt by the inhabitants, 
not by their invaders. The latter revelled as if in a con- 
quered place. Private houses were occupied without ren- 
dering compensation ; the officers were quartered on the 
principal inhabitants, many of whom were of the Society 
of " Friends ;" some even transgressed so far against pro- 



76 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving 

priety as to introduce their mistresses into the quarters 
thus oiDi^ressively obtained. The quiet habits of the city 
were outraged by the dissolute habits of a camp. Gaming 
prevailed to a shameless degree. A foreign officer kept a 
faro-bank, at which he made a fortune and some of the 
young officers ruined themselves. 

" During the whole of this long winter of riot and dis- 
sipation," continues the same writer, " Washington was 
suffered to remain undisturbed at Valley Forge, with an 
army not exceeding five thousand effective men, and his 
cannon frozen up and immovable. A nocturnal attack 
might have forced him to a disadvantageous action or 
compelled him to a disastrous retreat, leaving behind him 
his sick, cannon, ammunition, and heavy baggage. It 
might have opened the way for supplies to the city, and 
shaken off the lethargy of the British army. In a word," 
adds he, " had General Howe led on his troops to action, 
victory was in his power and conquest in his train." 

"Without assenting to the probability of such a result, it 
is certain that the ai'my for a part of the winter while it 
held Philadelphia in siege was in as perilous a situation as 
that which kept a bold front before Boston without am- 
munition to serve its cannon. 

On one occasion there was a flurry at the most advanced 
post, where Captain Henry Lee (Light-Horse Harry) with 
a few of his troops was stationed. He made himself for- 
midable to the enemy by harassing their foraging-parties. 
An attempt was made to surprise him. A party of about 
two hundred dragoons, taking a circuitous route in the 
night, came upon him by daybreak. He had but a few 
men with him at the time, and took j^ost in a large store- 
house. His scanty force did not allow a soldier for each 
window. The dragoons attempted to force their way into 
the house. There was a warm contest. The dragoons 



Irving] WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE. 77 

were bravely repvilsed, and sheered oflF, leaving two killed 
and four wounded. " So well directed was the opposition," 
writes Lee to "Washington, " that we drove them from the 
stables, and saved every horse. "VVe have got the arms, 
some cloaks, etc., of their wounded. The enterprise was 
certainly daring, though the issue of it very ignominious. 
I had not a soldier for each window." . . . 

In the month of February, Mrs. "Washington rejoined 
the general at Valley Forge, and took up her residence at 
head-quarters. The arrangements consequent to her ar- 
rival bespeak the simplicity of style in this rude encamp- 
ment. " The general's apartment is very small," writes 
she to a friend ; " he has a log cabin built to dine in, which 
has made our quarters much more tolerable than they 
were at first." 

Lady Stirling, Mrs. Knox, the wife of the general, and 
the wives of other of the officers were also in the camp. 
The reforms in the commissariat had begun to operate. 
Provisions arrived in considerable quantities ; supplies on 
their way to the Philadelphia market to load the British 
tables were intercepted and diverted into the hungry camp 
of the patriots ; magazines were formed in "Valley Forge ; 
the threatened famine was averted; " grim-visaged War" 
gradually relaxed his features, and affairs in the encamp- 
ment began to assume a more cheering aspect. . . . 

The most important arrival in the camp was that of 
the Bai-on Steuben, towards the latter part of February. 
He was a seasoned soldier from the old" battle-fields of 
Europe, having served in the Seven Years' "War, been 
aide-de-camp to the great Frederick, and connected with 
the quartermaster-general's department. Honors had been 
heaped upon him in Germany. After leaving the Prussian 
army he had been grand marshal of the court of the 
Prince of Hohenzollern-Hechingen, colonel in the circle 
II. 7* 



78 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving 

of Suabia, lieutenant-general under the Prince Margrave 
of Baden, and knight of the Order of JFidelity; and he 
had declined liberal offers from the King of Sardinia and 
the Emperor of Austria. With an income of about three 
thousand dollars, chiefly arising from various appoint- 
ments, he was living pleasantly in distinguished society 
at the German courts, and making occasional visits to 
Paris, when he was persuaded by the Count de St.-G-er- 
main, French Minister of War, and others of the French 
cabinet, to come out to America and engage in the cause 
they were pi^e^^aring to defend. Their object was to se- 
cure for the American armies the services of an officer of 
experience and a thorough disciplinarian. Through their 
persuasions he resigned his several offices, and came out at 
forty-eight j'^ears of age, a soldier of fortune, to the rude 
flghting-grounds of America, to aid a half-disciplined people 
in their struggle for liberty. No certainty of remunera- 
tion was held out to him, but there was an opportunity 
for acquiring militarj^ glory ; the probability of adequate 
reward should the 3'oung republic be successful ; and it 
was hinted that, at all events, the French court would 
not suffer him to be a loser. As his means, on resigning 
his offices, were small, Beaumarchais furnished funds for 
his immediate exjDenses. 

The baron had brought strong letters from Dr. Franklin 
and Mr. Deane, our envoys at Paris, and from the Count 
St.-Germain. Landing at Portsmouth in New Hampshire, 
December 1, he had forwarded copies of his letters to 
Washington. " The object of my greatest ambition," 
writes he, " is to render 3'our country all the service in 
my power, and to deserve the title of a citizen of Amei-ica 
by fighting for the cause of 3'our liberty. If the distin- 
guished ranks in which I have served in Europe should be 
an obstacle, I had rather serve under your Excellency as a 



Irving] WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE. 79 

volunteer, than to be an object of discontent among such 
deserving officers as have ah'eadj distinguished themselves 
among you. 

" I would say, moreover," adds he, " were it not for the 
fear of offending your modesty, that your Excellency is 
the only person under whom, after having served under 
the King of Prussia, I could wish to pursue an art to 
which I have wholl}' given myself up." 

By Washington's direction, the baron had proceeded 
direct to Congress. His letters procured him a distin- 
guished reception from the President. A committee was 
appointed to confer with bim. He offered his services as 
a volunteer, making no condition for rank or pay, but 
trusting, should he prove himself worthy and the cause be 
crowned with success, he would be indemnified for the 
sacrifices he had made, and receive such further compen- 
sation as he might be thought to merit. 

The committee having made their report, the baron's 
proffered services wei*e accepted, with a vote of thanks 
for his disinterestedness, and he was ordered to join the 
army at Yalley Forge. That army, in its ragged condition 
and squalid quai'ters, presented a sorry aspect to a strict 
discijjlinarian from Germany, accustomed to the order and 
appointments of European camps ; and the baron often 
declared that under such circumstances no army in Europe 
could be kept together for a single month. The liberal 
mind of Steuben, howevei', made every allowance ; and 
Washington soon found in him a consummate soldier, free 
from pedantry or pretension. 

The evils arising from a want of uniformity in discipline 
and manoeuvres throughout the army had long caused 
Washington to desire a well-organized inspectorship. He 
knew that the same desire was felt by Congress. Conway 
had been appointed to that office, but had never entered 



80 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving 

upon its duties. The baron appeared to be peculiarl}^ well 
qualified for such a department. "Washington determined, 
therefore, to set on foot a temporary institution of the 
kind. Accordingly he proposed to the baron to undertake 
the office of inspector-general. The latter cheerfully agreed. 
Two ranks of inspectors were appointed under him, — the 
lowest to inspect brigades, the highest to superintend sev- 
eral of these. Among the inspectors was a French gen- 
tleman of the name of Ternant, chosen not only for his 
intrinsic merit and abilities, but on account of his being 
well versed in the English as well as the French language, 
which made him a necessary assistant to the baron, who, 
at times, needed an interpreter. The gallant Fleury, to 
whom Congress had given the rank and pay of lieutenant- 
colonel, and who had exercised the office of aide-major in 
France, was soon after employed likewise as an inspector. 

In a little while the whole army was under drill ; for 
a great part, made up of raw militia, scarcely knew the 
manual exercise. Many of the officers, too, knew little of 
manoeuvring, and the best of them had much to learn. 
The baron furnished his sub-inspectors with written in- 
structions relative to their several functions. He took a 
company of soldiers under his immediate ti'aining, and, 
after he had sufficiently schooled it, made it a model 
for the others, exhibiting the manoeuvres they had to 
practise. 

It was a severe task at first for the aide-de-camp of the 
great Frederick to operate upon such raw materials. His 
ignorance of the language, too, increased the difficulty, 
where manoeuvres were to be explained or rectified. He 
was in despair, until an officer of a New York regiment, 
Captain "Walker, who spoke French, stepped forward and 
offered to act as interpreter. " Had I seen an angel from 
heaven," says the baron, " I could not have been more re- 



Irving] WASHINGTON AT VALLF.Y FORGE. 81 

joiced." He made Walker his aide-de-camp, and from that 
time bad him always at hand. 

For a time there was nothing but drills throughout the 
camp ; then gradually came evolutions of every kind. The 
officers were schooled as well as the men. The troops, says 
a person who was present in the camp, were paraded in a 
single line with shouldered arms, every officer in his place. 
The baron passed in front, then took the musket of each 
soldier in hand, to see whether it was clean and well pol- 
ished, and examined whether the men's accoutrements 
were in good order. 

He was sadly worried for a time with the militia ; es- 
pecially when any manoeuvre was to be performed. The 
men blundered in their exercise ; the baron blundered in 
his English ; his French and German were of no avail ; he 
lost his temper, which was rather warm, swore in all three 
languages at once, which made the matter worse, and at 
length called his aide to his assistance to help him curse 
the blockheads, as it was pretended, but, no doubt, to 
explain the manoeuvre.* 

Still the grand marshal of the court of Hohenzollern 
mingled with the veteran soldier of Frederick and tem 
pered his occasional bursts of impatience ; and he Jiad a 
kind, generous heart, that soon made him a favorite with 
the men. His discipline extended to their comforts. He 
inquired into their treatment by the officers. He exam- 
ined the doctors' reports, visited the sick, and saw that 
they were well lodged and attended. 



* On one occasion, having exhausted all his German and French 
oaths, he vociferated to his aide-de-camp, Major Walker, " Viens,mon 
ami AValker, — viens, mon bon ami. Sacre — G — dam de gaucherie of 
dese badauts — ^je ne puis plus — I can curse dem no more." — Garden, 
" Anecdotes of the American War," p. 341. 



82 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks 

He was an example, too, of the regularity and system 
he exacted. One of the most alert and indefatigable men 
in the camp, up at daybreak, if not before, whenever there 
were to be anj^ important manoeuvres, he took his cup of 
coffee and smoked his pipe while the servant dressed his 
hair, and by sunrise he was in the saddle, equipped at all 
points, with the star of his order of knighthood glittering 
on his breast, and was off to the parade alone, if his suite 
were not ready to attend him. 

The good strong sense of the baron was evinced in the 
manner in which he adapted his tactics to the nature 
of the army and the situation of the country, instead of 
adhering with bigotry to the systems of Europe. His in- 
structions were appreciated b}' all. The officers received 
them gladly and conformed to them. The men soon be- 
came active and adroit. The army gradually acquired a 
proper organization, and began to operate like a great 
machine ; and Washington found in the baron an intelli- 
gent, disinterested, truthful coadjutor, well worthy of the 
badge he wore as a knight of the Order of Fidelity. 



FRANKLIN IN FRANCE. 

JARED SPARKS. 

[At the era of "Washington's encampment at Valley Forge, three 
years of war had passed, with very little of advantage to Great Britain 
in return for the money spent and the efforts made. At the termi- 
nation of these three years the British army held only the island of 
Rhode Island, the city and surrounding country of New York, and 
the city of Philadelphia. The latter they were soon forced to relin- 
quish. Their position there was neatly expressed by Benjamin Franlc- 
lin, who, when told that General Howe had taken Philadelphia, 



Sparks] FRANKLIN IN FRANCE. 83 

replied, " Tou are mistaken : Philadelphia has taken General Howe." 
So it proved ; for, after being shut up in that city for eight months, 
the British were obliged to retreat in all haste, without having de- 
rived any advantage from the conquest. 

On the other hand, the American cause had materially advanced 
during this period. The army had developed from a miserably-armed 
and untrained militia to a well-disciplined force, tolerably well pro- 
vided with munitions of war. The loss of Philadelphia had not 
impaired the spirit or strength of the army, while the capture of Bur- 
goyne and his whole force had remarkably inspirited the people of 
America, and given them a strong hope of ultimate success. In the 
opinion of able military critics, this event was the turning-point of the 
war. The loss of the British in this affair outweighed the entire losses 
of the Americans during the war, while the injury to the prestige of 
the British arms was equally important. Still more valuable was the 
way which it opened to efficient aid from Europe. The negotiations 
for an alliance with France were brought to a favorable termination 
by the news of the surrender of Burgoyne. 

Ere considering these negotiations, a brief review of the few im- 
portant military events of 1778 may be given. On the 18th of June 
General Clinton evacuated the city of Philadelphia, and made a hasty 
retreat across New Jersey to New Tork. This action was in conse- 
quence of the appearance of the French fleet under Count D'Estaing 
off the capes of the Delaware, with a threat to blockade the British 
fleet in that river. Washington was making equally threatening 
demonstrations on the land side. Clinton accordingly decamped, with 
his army of about eleven thousand men. Washington hotly followed, 
with a larger army, and brought his antagonist to an engagement near 
Monmouth. The result of this battle was jeopardized by the early 
retreat of the vanguard under General Lee, an event which roused 
Washington to an unusual display of anger. The troops were rallied, 
however, and a general battle ensued, which continued till nightfall. 
Clinton took advantage of the darkness to withdraw secretly, with all 
his force, and hasten towards New York. He reached there without 
being further molested. Lee, who had been much irritated by Wash- 
ington's sharp reproof, addressed him two offensive letters. He was 
arrested in consequence, tried for military misdemeanors, and suspended 
from command for one year. He never rejoined the army. 

An attack by land and sea against Newport was next designed, with 
the purpose of driving the British from Rhode Island. But before 



8-4 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Sparks 

it could be carried into effect Lord Howe's fleet appeared, and offered 
battle to the French fleet. Before they could join in conflict they wero 
parted by a violent storm, which greatly damaged both fleets. Gen- 
eral Sullivan, who commanded the land force, retired on perceiving 
the withdrawal of the fleet, and the enterprise was given up. In 
November, General Clinton despatched an expedition of two thousand 
men against Georgia. The opposing anny here was small and in poor 
condition for battle, and was easily defeated. Savannah being taken by 
the British. This was the only important British success during the 
year. The two principal armies ended the year in much the same posi- 
tion as they had occupied two years before, "Washington having control 
of New Jersey, and the British being confined to New York City and 
its vicinity. Here thej' proceeded to defend themselves by intrench- 
ments. The most striking event of the year was the massacre of 
Wyoming, by a body of Indians and tories, and the subsequent 
slaughter in Cherry Valley, New York. 

Early in the summer Colonel John Butler and Brant, the Indian 
chief, led a party of about sixteen hundred savages and tories against 
the flourishing settlements of Wyoming Valley, Pennsylvania. One 
of the most terrible massacres in the whole history of America ensued. 
The garrison of the fort was lured out to hold a parley, and nearly all 
slain. When the remnant asked for terms of surrender, the terms 
oftered were " The hatchet!" On surrender, the women and children 
were shut up in the houses and barracks and consumed in a general 
conflagration. The settlements were then ravaged with fire and sword, 
with the most cold-blooded cruelty, in which the tories equalled or 
even surpassed the Indians. 

In October an expedition in retaliation was made against the Indians 
of the upper Susquehanna. This was followed by another savage 
incursion, in November, upon the settlers of Cherry Valley, New 
York. The inhabitants were treated with a barbarity only less than 
that shown at Wyoming, but the fort succeeded in holding out against 
its bloodthirsty assailants. 

With this rapid review of the military events of the year we will 
proceed to describe the mission to France, and particularly Franklin's 
share in it, making our selection from Sparks's " Life of Benjamin 
Franklin."] 

Congress [in 1776] appointed three commissioners, Dr. 
Franklin, Silas Deane, and Arthur Lee, "to transact the 



Sparks] FRANKLIN IN FRANCE. 85 

business of the United States at the court of France. ' 
They were furnished with the draft of a treaty, creden- 
tials, and instructions. The members enjoined secrecy on 
themselves in regard to these proceedings. Silas Deane 
was already in France, having been sent thither as a 
commercial and political agent instructed to procure mu- 
nitions of war and forward them to the United States, 
and to ascertain, as far as he could, the views and dispo- 
sition of the French court. Arthur Lee was in England. 
Franklin made immediate preparations for his voyage. 
He left Philadelphia on the 26th of October, accompanied 
by two of his grandsons, William Temple Franklin and 
Benjamin Frankhn Bache. They passed the night at 
Chester, and the next day embarked on board the Conti- 
nental sloop-of-war Eeprisal, carrying sixteen guns, and 
commanded by Captain Wickes. 

As a proof of Franklin's zeal in the cause of his country, 
and of his confidence in the result, it may be stated that 
before he left Philadelphia he raised all the money he 
could command, being between three and four thousand 
pounds, and placed it as a loan at the disposal of Congress. 

After a boisterous passage of thirty days from the Capes 
of Delaware the Eeprisal came to anchor in Quiberon Bay, 
near the mouth of the Loire. . . . The sloop was some- 
times chased by British cruisers, and Captain Wickes pre- 
pared for action ; but he had been instructed to avoid an 
engagement if possible, and to proceed directly to the 
coast of France. By good management he escaped his 
pursuers, and no action occurred during the voyage. Two 
days before he came in sight of land he took two pinzes, 
brigantines, one belonging to Cork, the other to Hull, laden 
with cargoes obtained in French ports. 

[Franklin landed at the town of Auray, and reached Nantes on the 
Tth of December.] 

TI. 8 



86 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Spakks 

His arrival in France was entirely unexpected. The 
news of his appointment had not preceded him, this having 
been kept secret in Congress. It was easily conjectured, 
however, that he would not come so far without being 
invested with some important public mission ; and the 
friends of America greeted him with cordiality and lively 
expressions of joy. . . . 

He stayed eight days at Nantes, and then set off for 
Paris, and reached that city on the 21st of December. 
He found Mr. Deane there, and Mr. Lee joined them the 
next day, so that the commissioners were prepared to 
enter immediately upon their official duties. Shortly 
afterward Dr. Franklin removed to Passy, a pleasant vil- 
lage near Paris. . . . He remained at this place during 
the whole of his residence in Franco. 

The intelligence of Franklin's arrival was immediately 
published and circulated throughout Eui'ope. His brilliant 
discoveries in electricity, thirty years before, had made him 
known as a philosopher wherever science was studied or 
genius respected. His writings on this subject had already 
been translated into many languages ; and also his " Poor 
Eichard," and some other miscellaneous pieces, clothed 
in a style of surpassing simplicity and precision, and 
abounding in sagacious maxims relating to human affairs 
and the springs of human action, which are almost with- 
out a parallel in any other writer. The history of his 
recent transactions in England, his bold and uncompro- 
mising defence of his country's rights, his examination 
before Parliament, and the abuse he had received from 
the ministers, were known everywhere, and had added to 
the fame of a philosopher and philanthropist that of a 
statesman and patriot. A French historian of the first 
celebrity speaks of him as follows : 

'• By the effect which Franklin produced in France, one 



Sparks] FRANKLIN IN FRANCE. 87 

might suy that he fulfilled his mission, not with a court, 
but with a free people. Diplomatic etiquette did not per- 
mit him often to hold interviews with the ministers, but 
he associated with all the distinguished personages who 
directed public opinion. Men imagined they saw in him 
a sage of antiquity, come back to give austere lessons and 
generous examples to the moderns. They personified in 
him the republic of which he was the representative and 
the legislator. They regarded his virtues as those of his 
countrymen, and even judged of their physiognomy by the 
imposing and serene traits of his own. Happy was he 
who could gain admittance to see him in the house which 
he occupied at Passy. This venerable old man, it was 
said, joined to the demeanor of Phocion the spirit of 
Socrates. . . . Courtiers were struck with his native dig- 
nity, and discovered in him the profound statesman. . . . 
After this picture, it would be useless to trace the history 
of Franklin's negotiations with the court of France. His 
virtues and his renown negotiated for him ; and, before 
the second year of his mission had expii'cd, no one con- 
ceived it possible to refuse fleets and an army to the 
compatriots of Franklin." 

The commissioners were furnished by Congress, in the 
first place, with the plan of a treaty of commerce which 
they were to propose to the French government. They 
were likewise instructed to procure from that court, at 
the expense of the United States, eight line-of-battle ships, 
well manned and fitted for service ; to borrow money ; 
to procure and forward military supplies ; and to fit out 
armed vessels under the flag of the United States, provided 
the Fi-ench court should not disapprove this measure. 
They were, moi-eover, authorized to ascertain the views 
of other European powers, through their ambassadors in 
France, and to endeavor to obtain from them a recoo-nition 



1 



88 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks 

of the indej^endence and sovereignty of the United States ; 
and to enter into treaties of amity and commerce with 
such powers, if opportunities should present themselves. 
It was expected that remittances would be made to them 
from time to time, in American produce, to meet their 
expenses and pecuniary engagements. 

[Their advances were received cautiously by the Count de Vergennes, 
minister for foreign affairs in the French cabinet, as the court desired 
to avoid giving open offence to England.] 

Notwithstanding this reserve, the court of France had 
resolved to assist the Americans. A million of livres had 
already been secretly advanced to Beaumarchais for this 
purpose. Munitions of war to a large amount were pur- 
chased by him, in part with this money, and in part with 
such other means as he could command. By an arrange- 
ment with Mr. Deane, he shipped these articles to the 
United States, and Congress was to pay for them by re- 
mitting tobacco and other American produce. Before the 
commissioners arrived, Mr. Deane had procured, on these 
conditions, thirty thousand fusils, two hundred pieces of 
brass cannon, thirty mortars, four thousand tents, clothing 
for thirty thousand men, and two hundred tons of gun- 
powder. They were shipped in different vessels, the most 
of which arrived safely in the United States. 

[In addition there were secretly granted two millions of livres, under 
the guise of a loan from friends of America, but really from the royal 
treasury. This money was to be repaid after the war. The commis- 
sioners also agreed to furnish five thousand hogsheads of tobacco, on 
which contract one million livres were advanced. "With the money 
thus received, arms, clothing, etc., were bought and sent to America, 
while two frigates were built. These secretly-conducted operations 
were greatly interfered with by the British ambassador, who had spies 
in every port. Yet the commissioners managed to get all their goods 
shipped. The sale of prizes by privateers also brought remonstrances 



Sparks] FRANKLIN IN FRANCE. 89 

from the British ambassador. Eiforts were made to obtain aid in the 
other countries of Europe, but with little success. The commissioners 
had more success in obtaining an alleviation of the harsh treatment 
in England of American prisoners. The American cruisers had now 
taken enough prisoners to threaten reprisals and to enforce the policy 
of exchange.] 

The multitude of foreign officers applying for letters 
of recommendation to Congress, or to General AVashing- 
ton, was so great as to be a source of unceasing trouble 
and embarrassment. Scarcely had Dr. Franklin landed in 
France when applications began to throng upon him for 
employment in the American army. They continued to 
the end of the war, coming from every country, and written 
in almost every language, of Europe. Some of the writers 
told only the story of their own exploits ; others endorsed 
the certificates of friends, or of generals under whom they 
had served ; while others were backed by the interest of 
persons of high rank and influence, whom it was impos- 
sible to gratify and disagreeable to refuse. It was in vain 
that he assured them that he had no power to engage offi- 
cers, that the army was already full, that his recommenda- 
tion could not create vacancies, and that they would inevi- 
tably be disappointed when the}' arrived in America. 

[Many such officers came to America, some of them of the highest 
repute, among whom we have already mentioned Kosciusko, Pulaski, 
Steuben, and Lafayette. To the latter Franklin willingly gave his 
recommendation, and wrote somewhat enthusiastically to Congress 
concerning him. His judgment, as we know, was fully sustained by 
the good conduct of the young French nobleman.] 

Dr. Franklin had been ten months in France before the 
court of Versailles manifested any disposition to engage 
openly in the American contest. The opinion of the min- 
isters was divided on this subject. Count de Vergennes 
and Count Maurepas, the two principal ministers, were 
II. 8* 



90 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Spakks 

decidedly in favor of a war with England, and of bring- 
ing it on by uniting with the Americans. Some of the 
others, among whom was Turgot while he was in the cab- 
inet, disapproved this policy, and the king himself came 
into it with reluctance. Moreover, the events of the cam- 
paign of 1776 afforded little encouragement to such a step. 
The evacuation of Canada by the American troops, the 
defeat on Long Island, the loss of Fort Washington, the 
retreat of Washington's army through New Jersey, and 
the flight of Congress from Philadelphia to Baltimore, 
were looked upon in Europe as a prelude to a speedy ter- 
mination of the struggle. This was not a time to expect 
alliances. . . . 

But the tide of affairs soon began to turn in another 
direction. In the campaign of 1777 the losses of the pi'e- 
ceding year wei-e more than retrieved. The capture of 
Burgoyne's army, and the good conduct of the foi'ces 
under General Washington in Pennsylvania, gave sufficient 
evidence that the Americans were in earnest, and that they 
wanted neither physical strength nor firmness of purpose. 
On the 4th of December an express arrived in Paris from 
the United States, bringing the news of the capture of 
Burgoyne and the battle of Germantown. The commis- 
sioners immediately communicated this intelligence to the 
French court. Two days afterwards, M. Gerard, the sec- 
retary of the King's Council, called on Dr. Franklin at 
Passy, and said he had come, by order of the Count de 
Yergennes and Count Maurepas, to congratulate the com- 
missioners on the success of their countrymen, and to 
assure them that it gave great pleasure at Versailles. 
After some conversation, he advised them to renew their 
proposition for a treaty. 

[They accordingly called on the Count de Vergennes and submitted 
to him the draft of the proposed treaty of commerce. He requested, 



Sparks] FRANKLIN IN FRANCE. 91 

before deciding, a delay of three weeks, that the King of Spain might 
be consulted and invited to join in the treaty.] 

Before this time expired, M. Gerard again called on the 
commissioners, and told them that the king, by the advice 
of his Council, had determined to acknowledge the inde- 
pendence of the United States, and to enter into a treaty 
of amit}' and commerce with them ; that it was the desire 
and intention of his majesty to form such a treaty as 
would be durable, and this could be done only by estab- 
lishing it on principles of exact reciprocity, so that its 
continuance should be for the interest of both parties; 
that no advantage w^ould be taken of the present situation 
of the United States to obtain terms which they would 
not willingly agree to under any other circumstances ; and 
that it was his fixed determination to support their in- 
dependence by all the means in his power. This would 
probably lead to a war with England ; yet the king would 
not ask, or expect, any comj^ensation for the expense or 
damage he might sustain on that account. The only con- 
dition required by him would bo that the United States 
should not give up their independence in any treaty of 
peace they might make with England, nor return to their 
subjection to the British government. 

[The treaty was accordingly drawn up and signed, after which the 
French minister proposed a supplementary Treaty of Alliance, to come 
into effect in case of war between Trance and England. This stipu- 
lated that the allies should make their cause a common one, this being 
to maintain the independence of the United States. If the Americans 
gained any territory in Canada they were to retain it, while the French 
were to have the same privilege in regard to the British West Indies. 
Each guaranteed to the other all its possessions in America. Trade 
was to become exactly reciprocal. France disclaimed any idea of 
gaining territory on the American continent.] 

The two treaties were signed at Paris on the 6th of 



92 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks 

February, 1778. They were sent to America by a special 
messenger, and were immediately ratified by Congress. 
The event diffused joy throughout the country. Wash- 
ington set apart a day for the rejoicings of the army on 
the occasion at Valley Forge. All saw, or believed they 
saw, that, whatever might be the hazards of the war, in- 
dependence in the end was certain. France was too 
powerful a nation to be conquered, and she had promised 
her support to the last. Her interest and safety were 
deeply involved in the contest, and her honor was pledged. 
In the enthusiasm of the moment, every heart was filled 
with gratitude to the French king, and every tongue spoke 
his praise. His generosity in agreeing to treaties so favor- 
able in their conditions and so equitable in their princijjles 
was lauded to the skies ; and we behold the spectacle of 
two millions of republicans becoming all at once the cor- 
dial friends and warm admirers of a monarch who sat on 
a throne erected by acts, sustained by a policy, and sur- 
rounded by institutions, which all true republicans re- 
garded as so many encroachments upon the natural and 
inalienable rights of mankind. In this instance, however, 
they had no just occasion afterwards to regret that their 
confidence had been misj)laced, or their gratitude improp- 
erly bestowed. Every promise was fulfilled, and every 
pledge was redeemed. 

On the 20th of March the American commissioners were 
introduced to the king at Yersailles, and they took their 
place at court as the representatives of an independent 
power. A French historian, describing this ceremony, 
says of Franklin, " He was accompanied and followed by 
a gi'eat number of Americans and individuals from various 
countries, whom curiosity had drawn together. His age, 
his venerable aspect, the simplicity of his dress, everything 
fortunate and remarkable in the life of this American, eon- 



Sparks] FRANKLIN IN FRANCE. 93 

tributed to excite public attention. The clapping of hands 
and other expressions of joy indicated that warmth of 
enthusiasm which the, French are more susceptible of than 
any other people, and the charm of which is enhanced to 
the object of it by their jjoliteness and agreeable manners. 
After this audience he crossed the court on his way to the 
office of the minister of foreign affairs. The multitude 
waited for him in the passage, and greeted him with their 
acclamations. He met with a similar reception wherever 
he appeared in Paris." 

From that time both Franklin and the other Ameri- 
can commissioners attended the court at Versailles on the 
same footing as the ambassadors of the European powers. 
Madame Campan says that on these occasions Franklin 
appeared in the dress of an American farmer. " His 
straight, unpowdered hair, his round hat, his brown cloth 
coat, formed a singular contrast with the laced and em- 
broidered coats, and powdered and perfumed heads, of the 
courtiers of Yersailles." 

[The treaties thus entered into were considered equivalent to a decla- 
ration of war, and both parties prepared for hostilities, though the 
actual declaration was not made till later. Meanwhile, Franklin was 
approached by agents from England, with the ostensible object of 
arranging some terms of accommodation between America and Eng- 
land, but probably, to some extent, with the real object of entrapping 
the shrewd American and embroiling him with the French govern- 
ment. Whatever their object, he was too wise to be deceived, and too 
patriotic to listen to any terms short of a complete independence. 
Commissioners were also sent to America, to treat with Congress and 
with the leading Americans. The ill success of this effort has been 
already mentioned. Franklin continued in Paris, as the American 
representative, till 1785, taking an active part in diplomatic labors, 
and assisting in the final treaty of peace.] 



94 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cooper 

THE BON HOMME RICHARD AND THE SERAPIS. 

J. FENIMORE COOPER. 

[The Revolutionary War, which in its earlier years had been in 
great part confined to the North, was in its later years transferred 
to the South, which became the scene of its most important events. 
During 1 779 active operations took place in both regions. In the South 
the British were endeavoring to reduce South Carolina and Georgia ; 
in the North, Clinton and Washington stood opposed ; and in the West 
Indies the fleets of England and France contended. The fall of Sa- 
vannah was soon followed by the capture of Sunbury, which gave the 
British military command of Georgia. They were defeated in an attack 
upon Port Royal, but soon afterwards General Ash was defeated at 
Brier Creek, with the loss of nearly his whole army of two thousand 
men. General Prevost, the British commander, now marched on 
Charleston, but was compelled to retreat by the advance of the Ameri- 
cans under General Lincoln. In September, the French fleet, under 
Count D'Estaing, in concert with General Lincoln's army, laid siege 
to Savannah. The siege continued for a month, when an assault Avas 
made, in which the Americans were repulsed with severe loss. This 
forced them to raise the siege. 

Meanwhile, in the North, desultory fighting continued, but no en- 
gagements of importance took place. Governor Tryon headed several 
expeditions, which resulted only in the barbarous plundering and 
burning of defenceless towns. During one of these occurred General 
Putnam's famous feat at Horse-Neck, Connecticut, in which he 
plunged at the full speed of his horse down a precipitous descent, 
without injury either from the desperate ride or from the bullets of the 
enemy. Another brilliant exploit was the capture by General Wayne 
of the fort at Stony Point, on the Hudson, which had some time before 
been taken by General Clinton. Wayne arrived near this fortress, 
unperceived by the garrison, on the evening of July 15. Dividing 
his force into two columns, and forbidding them to load their muskets, 
he marched them silently against the post. They were forced to wade 
through a deep morass, and while here were discovered by the English, 
who opened on them with a terrible fire of musketry and grape-shot. 
Yet without a moment's check they rushed impetuously forward 



Cooper] THE BON HOMME RICHARD. 95 

forced their way with the baj'onet, and the two columns met in the 
centre of the fort, which instantly yielded. More than six hundred 
of the British were killed and taken, with a large amount of stores. 
Another important event of the year was General Sullivan's expedi- 
tion against the Six Nations, of whom only the Oneidas favored the 
Americans. He penetrated their country, defeated them in a severe 
encounter, burned their villages and corn, and so intimidated them 
that they gave much less trouble during the remainder of the war. 
During the summer Spain declared war against Great Britain, and 
joined her fleet to that of France. 

In September of this year occurred the famous naval battle between 
the Bon Homme Eichard and the Serapis, which is of sufficient in- 
terest to describe in detail. With the exception of this one striking 
conflict, the naval history of the war is of secondary importance, as 
compared with the conflict on land. Early in the war the American 
Congress authorized privateering, and much damage was done to the 
British shipping by the active rovers of the seas. Efforts were also 
made to build fleets, and many actions took place at sea, but none of 
particular interest, during the first half of the war. John Paul Jones, 
the boldest of American naval commanders of that period, first entered 
the service on May 10, 1776, in command of the sloop-of-war Provi- 
dence, one of the American squadron of thirteen war-vessels built in 
1776. But he first attained celebrity in 1778, as commander of the 
Ranger, of eighteen guns. With this vessel, which is described as 
being crank and slow, he descended on the coasts of England and 
Scotland and made an effort to bum the shipping in the harbor of 
Whitehaven. This attempt proved unsuccessful. He afterwards at- 
tempted to seize the Earl of Selkirk, landing and taking possession of 
his house, from which the earl chanced to be absent. These daring 
operations created the greatest alarm along the English coast. The 
Eanger afterwards captured the sloop-of-war Drake, after a severe 
combat, and carried her prize safely into the harbor of Brest, though 
chased repeatedly. 

The exploits of the captain of the Ranger yielded him so much 
celebrity that the French government soon after gave him command 
of the Duras, an old Indiaman of some size, which was placed under 
the American flag and fitted up as a ship of war, being armed with 
six eighteen-pounders, twenty-eight twelves, and eight nines. The 
vessel was old-fashioned and clumsy, and had a motley crew, from 
almost every nation of Europe, with one hundred and thirty-five 



96 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cooper 

marines to keep them in order. This ship, in company with four 
smaller vessels, the Alliance, the Pallas, the Cerf, and the Vengeance, 
of which only the Alliance and the Cei*f were fitted for war, set sail 
from L'Orient on June 19, 1779. The name of the Duras had pre- 
viously been changed to the Bon Homme Kichard, in compliment to 
Franklin. After a short cruise the squadron returned, and sailed 
again on August 14. The Richard had now nearly one hundred 
Americans on board, gained from some exchanged American seamen. 

After having produced a general alarm along the coast of England 
by his daring movements, Captain Jones met, on the 13th of September, 
a British fleet of more than forty sail of merchantmen, convoyed by the 
Serapis, a forty-four-gun ship, and the Countess of Scarborough, of 
twenty-two guns. The Serapis was a new vessel, reputed a fast sailer, 
and armed with twenty eighteen-pounders, twenty nine-pounders, and 
ten six-pounders, making fifty guns in all. She had a trained man-of- 
war's crew of three hundred and twenty men. This encounter took 
place ofi" riamborough Head, within easy view of the English coast. 

On learning the character of the fleet, Captain Jones gave the 
signal for chase, and displayed signs of hostility which alarmed the 
English ships and caused a hurried flight for safety, while the Serapis 
hauled out to sea, until far enough to windward, when she stood in 
again to cover her convoy. The Alliance and Pallas, who were in 
company with the Richard, moved with indecision, as if in doubt 
whether to fly or fight. The story of the remarkable naval battle 
which succeeded we select from Cooper's " History of the Navy of 
the United States of America," where it is well told.] 

It was now quite dark, and Commodore Jones was com- 
pelled to follow the movements of the enemy by the aid 
of a night-glass. It is probable that the obscurity which 
prevailed added to the indecision of the commander of the 
Pallas, for, from this time until the moon rose, objects at a 
distance were distinguished with difficulty, and, even after 
the moon appeared, with uncertainty. The Eichard, how- 
ever, stood steadily on, and about half-past seven she came 
up with the Serapis, the Scarborough being a short dis- 
tance to leeward. The American ship was to Avindward, 
and, as she drew slowly near, Captain Pearson hailed. The 



Cooper] THE BON HOMME RICHARD. 97 

answer was equivocal, and both ships delivered their entire 
broadsides nearly simultaneously. The water being quite 
smooth, Commodore Jones had relied materially on the 
eighteens that were in the gun-room ; but at this discharge 
two of the six that were fired burst, blowing up the deck 
above, and killing or wounding a large proportion of the 
people that were stationed below. This disaster caused 
all the heavy guns to be instantly deserted, for the men 
had no longer confidence in their metal. It at once re- 
duced the broadside of the Eichard to about a third less 
than that of her opponent, not to include the disadvantage 
of the manner in which the force that remained was dis- 
tributed among light guns. In short, the combat was now 
between a twelve-pounder and an eighteen-pounder frigate, 
— a species of contest in which, it has been said, we know 
not with what truth, the former has never been known to 
prevail. Commodore Jones informs us himself that all his 
hoj)es, after this accident, rested on the twelve-pounders 
that were under the command of his first lieutenant. 

The Eichard, having backed her topsails, exchanged sev- 
eral broadsides, when she filled again and shot ahead of 
the Serapis, which ship luff'ed across her stern and came up 
on the weather quarter of her antagonist, taking the wind 
out of her sails, and, in her turn, passing ahead. All this 
time, which consumed half an hour, the cannonading was 
close and furious. The Scarborough now drew near, but 
it is uncertain whether she fired or not. On the side of 
the Americans it is affirmed that she raked the Eichard at 
least once ; but by the report of her own commander it 
would appear that, on account of the obscurity and the 
smoke, he was afraid to discharge his guns, not knowing 
which ship might be friend or which foe. Unwilling to 
lie by and be exposed to shot uselessly, Captain Piercy 
edged away from the combatants, exchanging a broadside 
II. — E g 9 



1 



98 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cooper 

or two, at a great distance, with the AlHance, and shortly 
afterwards was engaged at close quarters by the Pallas, 
which ship compelled him to strike, after a creditable re- 
sistance of about an hour. 

Having disposed of the inferior ships, we can confine 
ourselves to the principal combatants. As the Serapis 
kept her luff, sailing and working better than the Eichard, 
it was the intention of Captain Pearson to pay broad off 
across the latter's fore-foot, as soon as he had got far 
enough ahead; but, making the attempt, and finding he 
had not room, he put his helm hard down to keep clear 
of his adversar}^, when the double movement brought the 
two ships nearly in a line, the Serapis leading. By these 
uncertain evolutions the English ship lost some of her 
way, while the American, having kept her sails trimmed, 
not only closed, but actually ran aboard of her antagonist, 
bows on, a little on her weather quarter. The wind being 
light, much time was consumed in these different man- 
oeuvres, and near an hour elapsed between the firing of 
the first guns and the moment when the vessels got foul 
of each other in the manner just described. 

The English now thought that it was the intention of 
the Americans to board them, and a few minutes passed 
in the uncertainty which such an expectation would create ; 
but the positions of the vessels were not favorable for either 
party to pass into the opposing ship. There being at this 
moment a perfect cessation of the firing, Captain Pearson 
demanded, "Have you struck your colors?" "I have not 
yet begun to fight," was the answer. 

The yards of the Richard were braced aback, and, the 
sails of the Serapis being full, the ships separated. As 
soon as far enough asunder, the Serapis put her helm hard 
down, laid all aback forward, shivered her after-sails, and 
wore short round on her heel, or was box-hauled, with a 



Cooper] THE BON HOMME RICHARD. 99 

view, most probably, of luffing up athwart the bow of the 
enemy, in order to again rake her. In this position the 
Richard would have been fighting her starboard and the 
Serapis her larboard guns ; but Cominodore Jones by this 
time was conscious of the hopelessness of success against 
so much heavier metal, and, after having backed astern 
some distance, he filled on the other tack, luffing up with 
the intention of meeting the enemy as he came to the wind, 
and of laying him athwart hawse. In the smoke, one 
party or the other miscalculated the distance, for the two 
vessels came foul again, the bowsprit of the English ship 
passing over the poop of the American. As neither had 
much way, the collision did but little injury, and Commo- 
dore Jones, with his own hands, immediately lashed the 
enemy's head-gear to his raizzen-mast. The pressure on 
the after-sails of the Serapis, which vessel was nearly be- 
fore the wind at the time, brought her hull round, and the 
two ships gradually fell close alongside of each other, head 
and stern, the jib-boom of the Serapis giving way with 
the strain. A spare anchor of the English ship now hooked 
in the quarter of the American, and additional lashings 
were got out on board the latter to secure her in this 
position. 

Captain Pearson, who was as much aware of his advan- 
tage in a regular combat as his opponent could be of his 
own inferiority, no sooner perceived that the vessels were 
foul than he dropped an anchor, in the hope that the 
Eichard would drift clear of him. But such an expecta- 
tion was perfectly futile, as the yards were intei'locked, 
the hulls were pressed close against each other, there were 
lashings fore and aft, and even the ornamental work aided 
in holding the shijDs together. When the cable of the 
Serapis took the strain, the vessels sloAvly tended, with 
the bows of the Serapis and the stern of the Eichard to 



100 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cooper 

the tide. At this instaut the English made an attempt 
to board, but were repulsed with trifling loss. 

All this time the battle raged. The lower ports of the 
Serapis having been closed, as the vessel swung, to prevent 
boarding, they were now blown off, in order to allow the 
guns to be run out ; and cases actually occurred in which 
the rammers had to be thrust into the ports of the oppo- 
site ship in order to be entered into the muzzles of their 
proper guns. It is evident that such a conflict must have 
been of short duration. In eff'ect, the heavy metal of the 
Serai)is, in one or two discharges, cleared all before it, and 
the main-deck guns of the Eichard were in a great measure 
abandoned. Most of the people went on the upper deck, 
and a great number collected on the forecastle, where they 
were safe from the fire of the enemy, continuing to fight 
by throwing grenades and using muskets. 

In this stage of the combat, the Serapis was tearing her 
antagonist to pieces below, almost without resistance from 
her enemy's batteries, only two guns on the quarter-deck, 
and three or four of the twelves, being worked at all. To 
the former, by shifting a gun from the larboard side, Com- 
modore Jones succeeded in adding a third, all of which 
were used with effect, under his immediate inspection, to 
the close of the action. He could not muster force enough 
to get over a second gun. But the combat would now 
have soon terminated, had it not been for the courage 
and activity of the people aloft. Strong parties had been 
placed in the tops, and at the end of the short contest the 
Americans had driven every man belonging to the enemy 
below ; after which they kept up so animated a fire on the 
quarter-deck of the Serapis in particular as to di-ive nearly 
every man off that was not shot down. 

Thus, while the English had the battle nearly to them- 
selves below, their enemies had the control above the upper 



Cooper] THE BON HOMME RICHARD. 101 

deck. Having cleared the tops of the Serapis, some Ameri- 
can seamen lay out on the Eichard's main-yai'd, and began 
to throw hand-grenades upon the two upper decks of the 
English ship ; the men of the forecastle of their own vessel 
seconding these efforts, by casting the same combustibles 
through the ports of the Serapis. At length one man, in 
particular, became so hardy as to take his post on the ex- 
treme end of the yard, whence, provided with a bucket 
filled with combustibles, and a match, he dropped the gre- 
nades with so much jirecision that one passed through the 
main hatchway. The powder-boys of the Serapis had got 
more cartridges up than were wanted, and, in their hurry, 
they had carelessly laid a row of them on the main deck, 
in a line with the guns. The grenade just mentioned set 
fire to some loose powder that was Ij^ing near, and the flash 
passed from cartridge to cartridge, beginning abreast of 
the main-mast, and running quite aft. 

The effect of this explosion was awful. More than 
twenty men were instantly killed, many of them being 
left with nothing on them but the collars and wi'istbands 
of their shirts and the waistbands of their duck trousers ; 
while the official returns of the ship, a week after the 
action, show that there were no less than thirty-eight 
wounded on board, still alive, who had been injured in 
this manner, and of whom thirty were then said to be in 
great danger. Captain Pearson described the explosion as 
having destroyed nearly all the men at the five or six 
aftermost guns. On the whole, nearly sixty of the Serapis's 
people must have been instantly disabled by this sudden 
blow. 

The advantage thus obtained, by the coolness and in- 

trepidit}'- of the topman, in a great measure restored the 

chances of the combat, and, by lessening the fire of the 

enemy, enabled Commodore Jones to increase his. In the 

II. 9* 



102 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Coopkr 

same decree that it encourasjed the crew of the Eichard 
it diminished the hopes of the people of the Serapis. One 
of the guns under the immediate inspection of Commodore 
Jones had been pointed some time against the main-mast 
of the enemy, while the two others had seconded the fire 
of the tops with grape and canister. Kept below decks 
by this double attack, where a scene of frightful horror 
was present in the agonies of the wounded and the effects 
of the explosion, the spirits of the Englishmen began to 
droop, and there was a moment when a trifle would have 
induced them to submit. From this despondency they 
were temporarily raised by one of those unlooked-for 
events that characterize the vicissitudes of battle. 

[The event here alluded to was the following. While the fight 
was taking place between the Pallas and the Scarborough, the Alli- 
ance stood off and on, as if in doubt how or where to bo of service. 
She finally approached the Eichard and Serapis, and fired in such a 
way as to do as much damage to friend as to foe, if not even more. 
Fifty voices hailed her, calling out that she was firing into the wrong 
ship. Ten or twelve men seem to have been killed and wounded on 
the Eichard by this discharge. The Alliance, after some further in- 
effectual efforts to aid her consort, stood off, and took no part in the 
remainder of the fight.] 

The fire of the Alliance added greatl}- to the leaks of 
the Eichard, which ship by this time had received so much 
water through the shot-holes as to begin to settle. It is 
even affirmed by many witnesses that the most dangerous 
shot-holes on board the Eichard were under her larboard 
bow and larboard counter, in places where they could not 
have been received from the Serapis. This evidence, how- 
ever, is not unanswerable, as it has been seen that the Sera- 
pis luffed up on the larboard quarter of the Eichard in the 
commencement of the action, and, forging ahead, was sub- 
sequently on her larboard bow, endeavoring to cross her 



Cooper] THE BON HOMME RICHARD. 103 

foi'e-foot. It is certainly possible that shot may have 
struck the Richard in the places mentioned, on these oc- 
casions, and that, as the ship settled in the water from 
other leaks, the holes then made may have suddenly in- 
creased the danger. On the other hand, if the Alliance 
did actually fire while on the bow and quarter of the 
Richard, as appears by a mass of uncontradicted testimony, 
the dangerous shot-holes may veiy well have come from 
that ship. 

Let the injuries have been received from what quarter 
they might, soon after the Alliance had run to leeward 
an alarm was spread in the Richard that the ship was 
sinking. Both vessels had been on fire several times, and 
some difficulty had been experienced in extinguishing the 
flames ; but hei-e was a new enemy to contend with, and, 
as the information came from the carpenter, whose duty it 
was to sound the pump-wells, it produced a good deal of 
consternation. The Richard had more than a hundred 
English prisoners on board, and the master-at-arms, in 
the hurry of the moment, let them all up from below, in 
order to save their lives. In the confusion of such a scene 
at night, the master of the letter-of-marque that had been 
taken off the north of Scotland passed through a port of 
the Richard into one of the Serapis, when he reported to 
Captain Pearson that a few minutes would probably de- 
cide the battle in his favor, or carry his enemy down, he 
himself having been liberated in order to save his life. 
Just at this instant the gunner, who had little to occupy 
him in his quarters, came on deck, and, not perceiving 
Commodore Jones or Mr. Dale, both of whom were occu- 
pied with the liberated prisoners, and believing the mas- 
ter, the only other superior he had in the ship, to be dead, 
he ran up on the poop to haid down the colors. Fortu- 
nately, the flag-staff had been shot away, and, the ensign 



1 



104 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cooper 

already hanging in the water, he had no other means of 
letting his intention to submit be known than by calling 
out for quarter. Captain Pearson now hailed to inquire 
if the Richard demanded quarter, and was answered by 
Commodore Jones himself in the negative. It is probable 
that the reply was not heard, or, if heard, was supjjosed 
to come from an unauthorized source ; for, encouraged by 
what he had learned from the escaped prisoner, by the 
cry, and by the confusion that prevailed in the Richard, 
the English captain directed his boarders to bo called 
away, and, as soon as mustered, they were ordered to take 
possession of the prize. Some of the men actually got on 
the gunwale of the latter ship, but, finding boarders ready 
to repel boarders, they made a precipitate retreat. All 
this time the topmen were not idle, and the enemy were 
soon driven below again with loss. 

In the mean while, Mr. Dale, who no longer had a gun 
that could be fought, mustered the prisoners at the pumps, 
turning their consternation to account, and probably keep- 
ing the Richard afloat by the very blunder that had come 
so near losing her. The ships were now on fire again, and 
both parties, with the exception of a few guns on each 
side, ceased fighting, in order to subdue this common enemy. 
In the course of the combat the Serapis is said to have 
been set on fire no less than twelve times, while towards 
its close, as will be seen in the sequel, the Richard was 
burning all the while. 

As soon as order was restored in the Richard, after a 
call for quarter, her chances of success began to increase, 
while the English, driven under cover, almost to a man, 
appear to have lost, in a great degree, the hope of vic- 
tory. Their fire materially slackened, while the Richard 
again brought a few more guns to bear ; the main-mast 
of the Serapis began to totter, and her resistance, in gen- 



Cooper] THE BON HOMME RICHARD. 105 

eral, to lessen. About an hour after the exjjlosion, or be- 
tween three hours and three hours and a half after the 
first gun was fired, and between two hours and two hours 
and a half after the ships were lashed together, Captain 
Pearson hauled down the colors of the Serapis with his 
own hands, the men refusing to expose themselves to the 
fire of the Eiehard's tops. 

As soon as it was known that the colors of the English 
had been lowered, Mr. Dale got upon the gunwale of the 
Eichard, and, laying hold of her main brace pendant, he 
swung himself on board the Serapis. On the quarter-deck 
of the latter he found Captain Pearson, almost alone, that 
gallant officer having maintained his post throughout the 
whole of this close and murderous conflict. Just as Mr. 
Dale addressed the English captain, the first lieutenant of 
the Serapis came up from below to inquire if the Richard 
had struck, her tire having entirely ceased. Mr. Dale now 
gave the English ofiacer to understand that he was mis- 
taken in the position of things, the Serapis having struck 
to the Eichard, and not the Eichard to the Serapis. Cap- 
tain Pearson confirming this account, his subordinate ac- 
quiesced, offering to go below and silence the guns that 
were still playing upon the American ship. To this Mr. 
Dale would not consent, but both the English officers were 
immediately passed on board the Eichard. The firing was 
then stopped below. Mr. Dale had been closely followed 
to the quarter-deck of the Serapis by Mr. Mayrant, a mid- 
shipman, and a party of boarders, and as the former struck 
the quarter-deck of the prize he was run through the thigh 
by a boarding-pike in the hands of a man in the waist, 
who was ignorant of the surrender. Thus did the close 
of this remarkable combat resemble its other features in 
singularity, blood being shedandshots fired while the board- 
ing officer was in amicable discourse with his prisoners. 



106 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks 

[After the surrender the Kichard was discovered to be both sinking 
and burning. The other vessels of the squadron sent men on board, 
of which one party worked the pumps, while another fought the fire. 
The flames were at length subdued, but an examination showed that 
it would be almost impossible to carry the vessel into port. She was 
accordingly abandoned, and about ten the next day " the Bon Homme 
Kichard wallowed heavily, gave a roll, and settled slowly into the sea, 
bows foremost." The Serapis, which was much less injured, was taken 
safely into port. Thus ended the most extraordinary sea-fight on record, 
and one which has given to the name of Paul Jones an imperishable 
fame.] 



THE TREASON OF ARNOLD. 

JARED SPARKS. 

[During the year 1780 military operations were mainly confined to 
the South. The year opened with a very unfavorable show for the 
American cause. The alliance with France had not produced the re- 
sults anticipated, the two years' operations of the French fleet having 
proved nearly useless to the Americans. The army was low in num- 
bers, and miserably clothed ; the country was without money or credit, 
and its paper currency greatly reduced in value. On the other hand, 
England had money in abundance, while the military and naval force 
voted for the year consisted of eighty-five thousand seamen and thirty- 
five thousand soldiers, in addition to those already abroad. 

The earliest British operation in 1780 was the siege of Charleston, 
which was conducted by General Clinton, aided by a fleet which forced 
its way into the harbor. On the 12th of May the city was forced to 
surrender, and General Lincoln and the garrison became prisoners of 
war. From this point expeditions were sent into the country. One 
of these seized the important post of Ninety-Six, others scoured the 
State in various directions, and the cavalry under the remorseless Colo- 
nel Tarleton cut to pieces a body of four hundred Americans who 
were retreating towards North Carolina. The province seeming re- 
duced to tranquillity, Clinton left Lord Cornwallis in command, and 
returned to New York with a large body of his troops. 



Sparks] THE TREASON OF ARNOLD. 107 

Yet the people were not so tranquil as they seemed. Bold guerilla 
bands soon collected, which gave the invaders unceasing annoyance. 
Chief among the daring leaders of these bands was Colonel Sumter, 
a dashing warrior, who not only gained minor successes, but surprised 
and completely defeated a large force of regulars and tories at Hanging 
Rock. Another of these active partisan leaders was Francis Marion, 
a man who has become a hero of modern romance, and who, with a 
force rarely exceeding from twenty to seventy men, gave the British 
endless trouble. Dashing from swamp or forest on the foe when in 
unconscious security, he hesitated not to attack bodies of British and 
tories two hundred strong, and usually with marked success. Self- 
possessed, prudent, yet daring, he took the greatest risks, yet never 
rashly or without judgment, and was alike successful in attack and in 
escape from pursuing forces. 

Meanwhile, General Gates had been sent with a strong army from 
the North, for the relief of the Southern provinces. He met Corn- 
wallis at Camden, South Carolina, each party seeking to surprise the 
other. In the battle that ensued the militia quickly gave way, and 
the regiments which held their ground were overwhelmed and broken 
by force of numbers. The rout became general, and the Americans 
suffered a loss of about one thousand men, with all their artillery and 
ammunition-wagons. Gates retreated to North Carolina, and Sum- 
ter's corps was soon after surpi'ised and routed with great slaughter by 
Tarleton. The province now seemed again reduced, and Cornwallis 
adopted very severe measures to hold it in subjection. Yet Sumter 
was soon in the field again, Marion displayed an annoying activity, 
and a party of tories who had been levied in North Carolina and who 
committed great atrocities were assailed at King's Mountain by a party 
of militia and defeated with a loss of three hundred killed and wounded 
and eight hundred prisoners, the American loss being not more than 
twenty. 

These active operations in the South had no counterpart in the North. 
In the previous year the British force had been withdrawn from Rhode 
Island, and only some slight excursions from New York took place. 
In July, Count de Rochambeau, with a powerful French fleet, arrived 
at Newport ; but no enterprise of importance was undertaken, and the 
high hopes of aid from the French alliance still proved futile. Yet 
one event of the highest interest and importance occurred in the North 
in the autumn of this year, — the treason of Benedict Arnold. 

This treasonable act had been long premeditated. Passionate, dis- 



1 



108 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks 

contented, constantlj^ persuaded that he was neglected and ill treated 
by Congress, demanding from that body more than it could or would 
grant, his disaffection grew extreme. While in command in Phila- 
delphia in 1778, his " illegal and oppressive acts" drew on him the 
censure of the Council of Pennsylvania, and finally subjected him to 
a trial by court-martial, which sentenced him to a reprimand from the 
commander-in-chief. By this time his treasonable sentiments were 
fully grown, and he began a secret correspondence with Sir Henry 
Clinton, through the medium of Major Andre. Arnold assumed the 
name of Gustavus, and Andre of John Anderson. These letters were 
disguised under the form of mercantile communications. 

Arnold, who wished to injure the American cause and enhance the 
value of his services to the British as much as possible, now applied 
for the command of West Point, a post of the utmost value both from 
its location and from the extensive supply of military stores which it 
held and covered. His application for this post was heard with sur- 
prise by Washington, but was finally granted. He at once privately 
engaged to deliver West Point to the enemy for ten thousand pounds 
sterling and a brigadier's commission in the British army. In the 
negotiations for this purpose Major Andre acted as the agent of Sir 
Henry Clinton. He ascended the Hudson in the sloop-of-war Vulture, 
secretly landed, and held a conference with Arnold, in which the terms 
of the treasonable action were arranged. It proving difiicult and dan- 
gerous to regain the Vulture, Andre was obliged to attempt a return 
by land. The events which succeeded we select from Sparks's " Life 
and Treason of Benedict Arnold."] 

Having no means of getting to the vessel, Andre was 
compelled to seek his \vay back b}- land. The safest route 
was supposed to be across the river and in the direction 
of White Plains. Smith agreed to attend him on the wa}^ 
till he should be out of danger from the American posts. 
Thus far Arnold's passports would protect them. 

All his entreaties being without avail, and having no 
other resort, Andre submitted to the necessity of his situ- 
ation, and resolved to pursue the route by land. Arnold 
had prevailed upon him, in case he took this course, to 
exchange his military coat for a citizen's dress. It was 



Sparks] THE TREASON OF ARNOLD. 109 

feared that if he was discovered in the uniform of a Brit- 
ish officer he might be stopped, and perhaps meet with 
trouble. And here again Smith was made the dupe of 
Arnold's artifices. When he exj)ressed surprise that a man 
in a civil capacity and on an errand of business should 
come from New York in such a dress, Arnold told him 
that it was owing to the pride and vanity of Anderson, 
who wished to make a figure as a man of consequence, 
and had borrowed a coat from a military acquaintance. 
Upon this representation Smith gave one of his coats in 
exchange, which Andre put on, leaving his own behind. 
Thus clad, and covered as before with his dark great-coat, 
which had a wide cape buttoned close in the neck, and the 
appearance of having been much worn, Andre was equipped 
for the joiirney. 

A little before sunset he and Smith set off, accompanied 
by a negro servant belonging to the latter. They pro- 
ceeded to King's Ferry, and crossed the river from Stony 
Point to Yerplanck's Point. On their way to the ferry 
they met several persons who were known to Smith, and 
with whom he conversed, accosting them in a gay and 
jocular humor, and assuming an air of ease and uncon- 
cern. He even stopped at a sutler's tent near the ferry, 
and contributed to the merriment of a pai'ty of loungers 
by assisting them in drinking a bowl of punch. Andre 
said nothing, but walked his horse slowly along, and was 
waiting at the ferry when his companion overtook him. 
Smith had tried, while on the road, to draw him into con- 
versation about the taking of Stony Point the year before, 
and such other topics as he thought would interest him ; 
but he was reserved and thoughtful, uttering brief replies, 
and showing no inclination to be interrogated or to talk 
upon any subject. 

[At a late hour in the evening they were stopped by a patrolling 
II. 10 



110 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks 

party, led by Captain Boyd, who proved so inquisitive as to give them 
much annoyance. He was anxious to learn from Smith the " impor- 
tant business" that brought them out, warned them that the Cow-boys 
were out below, and strongly advised them not to proceed till morning. 
They took his advice, partly perhaps to avoid exciting suspicion, and 
sought the house of one Andreas Miller, where they were told they 
might find quarters for the night.] 

They met with a welcome reception, but, coming at a 
late hour to a humble dwelling, their accommodations were 
nai-row, and the two travellers were obliged to sleep in the 
same bed. According to Smith's account, it was a weary 
and restless night to his companion. The burden on his 
thoughts was not of a kind to lull him to repose ; and the 
place of his retreat, so near the watchful Captain Boyd 
and his guards, was hardly such as would impress upon 
him a conviction of perfect security. At the first dawn 
of light he roused himself from his troubled slumbers, 
waked the servant, and ordered the horses to be prepared 
for an early departure. 

Having solicited their host in vain to receive a compen- 
sation for the civilities he had rendered, they mounted and 
took the road leading to Pine's Bridge. The countenance 
of Andre brightened when he was fairly beyond the reach 
of the patrolling party, and, as he thought, had left behind 
him the principal difficulties in his route. His cheerful- 
ness revived, and he conversed in the most animated and 
agreeable strain upon a great variety of topics. Smith 
professes to have been astonished at the sudden and ex- 
traordinary change which appeared in him, from a gloomy 
taciturnity to an exuberant flow of spirits, pleasantry, and 
gay discourse. He talked upon poetry, the arts, and liter- 
ature, lamented the war, and hoped for a speedy peace. 
In this manner they passed along, without being accosted 
by any person, till they came within two miles and a half 
of Pine's Bi-idge. 



Sparks] THE TREASON OF ARNOLD. \\\ 

[At this place Smith decided that he would go no further. The 
Cow-boys had recently been seen in that locality, and he did not care 
to fall into their hands. He therefore took leave of Andre, and re- 
turned with all speed to his home. On his way he saw Arnold, and 
gave him an account of the progress of his late companion, of whose 
true name and actual purpose he was in total ignorance. 

The Cow-boys were a set of plunderers, belonging to the British 
side, who infested the neutral ground between the outposts of the two 
armies. They were opposed by another set of bandits, called Skin- 
ners, professedly on the American side. The populous territory, some 
thirty miles in width, which formed the field of operations of these 
merciless scoundrels, was a dangerous locality for a man in Andre's 
situation to cross. After parting from Smith he left the road to White 
Plains, and took the Tarrytown road, having reason to believe that he 
would there meet with Cow-boys, with whom he hoped to be safe. 

It happened that same morning that seven patriotic j'oung men had 
stationed themselves in ambush on this road, with the object of inter- 
cepting suspicious persons, or droves of cattle, that might be seen pass- 
ing towards New York. Three of them were concealed in the bushes 
near the road.] 

About half a mile north of the village of Tarrytown, 
and a few hundred yards from the bank of Hudson's River, 
the road crosses a small brook, from each side of which 
the ground rises into a hill, and it was at that time cov- 
ered over with trees and underbrush. Eight or ten rods 
south of this brook, and on the west side of the road, 
these men were hidden ; and at that point Andre was 
stopped, after having travelled from Pine's Bridge with- 
out interruption. 

The particulars of this event I shall here introduce, as 
they are narrated in the testimony given by Paulding and 
Williams at Smith's trial, wi-itten down at the time by the 
judge-advocate, and preserved in manuscript among the 
other papers. This testimony having been taken only 
eleven days after the capture of Andre, when every cir- 
cumstance must have been fresh in the recollection of his 



112 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks 

captors, it may be regarded as exhibiting a greater exact- 
ness in its details than any account hitherto published. 
In answer to the question of the court, Paulding said, — 

" Myself, It^aac Van Wart, and David Williams were \y'\ng 
by the side of the road about half a mile above Tanytown, 
and about fifteen miles above Kingsbridge, on Saturday 
morning, between nine and ten o'clock, the 23d of Sep- 
tember. We had lain there about an hour and a half, as 
near as I can recollect, and saw several persons we were 
acquainted with, whom we let pass. Presently one of 
the young men who were with me said, ' There comes a 
gentlemanlike-looking man, who appears to be well dressed, 
and has boots on, and whom you had better step out and 
stop, if you don't know him.' On that I got up, and pre- 
sented my firelock at the breast of the person, and told 
him to stand ; and then I asked him which way he was 
going. ' Gentlemen,' said he, ' I hope you belong to our 
party.' I asked him what party. He said, ' The Lower 
Party.' Upon that I told him I did. Then ho said, ' I 
am a British officer out of the country on particular busi- 
ness, and I hope jon will not detain me a minute;' and to 
show that he was a Bi'itish officer he pulled out his watch. 
Upon which I told him to dismount. He then said, ' My 
God, I must do anything to get along,' and seemed to 
make a kind of laugh of it, and pulled out General Ar- 
nold's pass, which was to John Anderson, to pass all 
guards to White Plains and below. Upon that he dis- 
mounted. Said he, ' Gentlemen, you had best let me go, 
or you will bring yourselves into trouble, for your stop- 
ping me will detain the general's business,' and said he 
was going to Dobb's Ferry to meet a person there and get 
intelligence for General Arnold. Upon that I told him I 
hoped he would not be offended, that we did not mean to 
take anj'thing from him ; and I told him there were many 



Sparks] THE TREASON OF ARNOLD. 113 

bad people, who were going along the road, and I did not 
know but perhaps he might be one." 

When further questioned, Paulding replied that he asked 
the person his name, who told him it was John Anderson, 
and that when Anderson produced General Arnold's pass 
he should have let him go, if he had not before called him- 
self a British officer. Paulding also said that when the 
person pulled out his watch he understood it as a signal 
that he was a British officei*, and not that he meant to 
oifer it to him as a present. 

All these particulars were substantially confirmed by 
David "Williams, whose testimony in regard to the search- 
ing of Andre, being more minute than Paulding's, is here 
inserted. 

"We took him into the bushes," said Williams, "and 
oi-dered him to pull off his clothes, which he did; but on 
searching him narrowly we could not find any sort of 
writings. We told him to pull off his boots, which he 
seemed to be indifferent about ; but we got one boot off, 
and searched in that boot, and could find nothing. But 
we found there were some papers in the bottom of his 
stocking next to his foot; on which we made him pull his 
stocking off, and found three papers wrapped up. Mr. 
Paulding looked at the contents, and said he was a spy. 
We then made him pull off his other boot, and there we 
found three more papers at the bottom of his foot within 
his stocking. 

" Upon this we made him dress himself, and I asked him 
what he would give us to let him go. He said he would 
give us any sum of money. I asked him whether he 
would give us his horse, saddle, bridle, watch, and one 
hundred guineas. He said 'Yes,' and told us he would 
direct them to any place, even if it was that very spot, so 
that we jould get them. I asked him whether he would 
II.— A 10* 



114 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks 

give us more. He said he would give us any quantity of 
dry goods, or any sum of money, and bring it to any place 
that we might pitch upon, so that we might get it. Mr. 
Paulding answered, 'No, if you would give us ten thou- 
sand guineas, you should not stir one step.' I then asked 
the person, who had called himself John Anderson, if he 
would not get away if it lay in his power. He answei'ed, 
'Yes, I would.' I told him I did not intend he should. 
While taking him along we asked him a few questions, 
and we stopped under a shade. He begged us not to ask 
him questions, and said when he came to any commander 
he would reveal all. 

" He was dressed in a blue overcoat, and a tight body- 
coat, that was of a kind of claret color, though a rather 
deeper red than claret. The button-holes were laced with 
gold tinsel, and the buttons drawn over with the same 
kind of lace. He had on a round hat, and nankeen waist- 
coat and breeches, with a flannel waistcoat and drawers, 
boots, and thread stockings." 

The nearest military post was at North Castle, where 
Lieutenant-Colonel Jameson was stationed with a part of 
Sheldon's regiment of dragoons. To that place it was 
resolved to take the prisoner; and within a few hours he 
was delivered up to Jameson, with all the papers that had 
been taken from his boots. 

[Jameson, finding the suspicious papers to be in Arnold's hand- 
writing, and not comprehending all that the incident signified, sent 
Andre under guard to Arnold, together with a letter explaining the 
circumstance. He was induced to recall this order and detain Andre, 
but the letter went on. Meanwhile, Washington had arrived in the 
vicinity of West Point, and sent forward two of his aides to advise 
Arnold of his approach. They reached there just before the letter 
from Jameson arrived.] 

"When the aides arrived at Arnold's house, tbey found 




THE FLIGHT OF ARNOLD. 



Sparks] THE TREASON OF ARNOLD. 115 

breakfast waiting, as had been supposed. It being now 
ascertained that Washington and the other gentlemen 
would not be there, General Arnold, his family, and the 
aides-de-camp sat down to breakfast. Before they arose 
from the table, a messenger came with a letter for Arnold, 
which he broke open and read in presence of the company. 
It was the letter which Colonel Jameson had written two 
days before and despatched b}' Lieutenant Allen, and it 
contained the first intelligence received by Arnold of the 
capture of Andre. His emotion can be more easily im- 
agined than described. So great was his control over 
himself, however, that he concealed it from the persons 
present ; and, although he seemed a little agitated for the 
moment, j'et not to such a degi-ee as to excite a suspicion 
that anything extraordinary had happened. He told the 
aides-de-camp that his immediate attendance was required 
at West Point, and desired them to say to General Wash- 
ington, Avhen he arrived, that he was unexpectedly called 
over the river and should very soon I'eturn. He ordered 
a horse to be ready, and then, leaving the table hastily, he 
went up to Mrs. Arnold's chamber and sent for her. With 
a brevity demanded by the occasion, he told her that they 
must instantly joart, pei-haps to meet no more, and that 
his life depended on his reaching the enemy's lines with- 
out detection. Struck with horror at this intelligence, so 
abruptly divulged, she swooned and fell senseless. In that 
state he left her, hurried down-stairs, mounted a hoi'se 
belonging to one of his aides that stood saddled at the 
door, and rode alone with all speed to the bank of the 
river. He there entered a boat, and directed the oarsmen 
to push out to the middle of the stream. 

The boat was rowed by six men, who, having no knowl- 
edge of Arnold's intentions, promptly obeyed his orders. 
He quickened their activity by saying that he was going 



116 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks 

down the river and on board the Yulture with a flag, and 
that he was in great haste, as he expected G-eneral \Yash- 
ington at his house and wished to return as expeditiously 
as possible to meet him there. He also added another 
stimulating motive, by promising them two gallons of rum 
if they would exert themselves with all their strength. 
As they approached King's Ferry, Arnold exposed to view 
a white handkerchief, and ordered the men to row directly 
to the Yulture, which was now in sight, a little below the 
place it had occupied when Andre left it. The signal held 
out by Arnold, while the boat was passing Yerplanck's 
Point, caused Colonel Livingston to regard it as a flag- 
boat, and prevented him from ordering it to be stopped 
and examined. 

The boat reached the Yulture unobstructed in its pas- 
sage; and after Arnold had gone on board and introduced 
himself to Captain Sutherland, he called the leader of the 
boatmen into the cabin and informed him that he and his 
companions were prisoners. The boatmen, who had ca- 
pacity and spirit, said they were not prisoners, that they 
came on board wdth a flag of truce, and under the same 
sanction they would return. He then appealed to the 
captain, demanding justice and a proper respect for the 
rules of honor. Arnold replied that all this was nothing 
to the purpose, — that they were prisoners and must re- 
main on board. Captain Sutherland, disdaining so pitiful 
an action, though he did not interfere with the positive 
command of Arnold, told the man that he would take his 
l^arole, and he might go on shore and procure clothes and 
"whatever else was wanted for himself and his companions. 
This was accordingly done the same day. When these 
men arrived in New York, Sir Henry CHnton, holding in 
just contempt such a wanton act of meanness, set them 
all at liberty. 



Greene] THE COW PENS. 117 

[We have not space to give in detail the interesting events that 
succeeded. Some time elapsed before Arnold's flight was discovered, 
but when it was known, and the contents of the papers found on 
Andre were revealed, the whole conspiracy stood bare. Much sym- 
pathy was felt for Andre, and earnest efforts were made by Clinton and 
others to obtain for him a respite from the fate which awaited him. 
Washington was full of feeling for him, considering him a young 
man of great promise and ability, but his feeling for his country was 
greater. It would be unsafe to permit such an act to escape its proper 
penalty, and in his answer to Clinton he signified that Andre could be 
released only on condition that Arnold should be delivered up to take 
his place. This could not be complied with, and Andre was hung as 
a spy, at noon of October 2, 1781.] 



THE COWPENS AND GUILFORD COURT-HOUSE. 

GEORGE WASHINGTON GREENE. 

[Late in 1780 America gained another European ally. Holland, 
which had long been friendly, began the negotiation of a treaty, 
whereupon England at once declared war. Thus the English govern- 
ment had three European nations to contend with, in addition to 
America. Yet Parliament, with undiminished energy, voted a large 
sum of money for the public service, and ordered the raising of exten- 
sive sea- and land-forces. 

Washington's army entered the year in a miserable condition as to 
pay, clothing, and provisions. So great were its necessities that on 
the 1st of January the whole Pennsylvania division deserted the camp 
and declared that they would force Congress to redress their griev- 
ances. British agents sought to entice them into service under Clin- 
ton, but they indignantly refused, and were eventually brought back 
to duty by a committee from Congress. Yet this mutiny gave rise to 
earnest efforts to relieve the troops. Pvobert Morris, a wealthy Phila- 
delphia merchant, undertook to collect the taxes, to supply flour to the 
army, and freely used his own fortune and credit for the support of the 
suffering soldiers. The Bank of North America was established under 



118 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Greene 

his care, and did excellent service, and it is said that his exertions alone 
prevented the army from disbanding, and enabled Congress to prosecute 
the war with energy. 

The military operations of the year were mainly confined to the 
South. In Virginia the traitor Arnold committed great ravages. 
"Washington formed a plan to capture him and his army, sending La- 
fayette with a force of twelve hundred men, with whom the French 
fleet was to co-operate. But the British fleet attacked the French, 
and forced it to return to Ehode Island, and Arnold, reinforced, con- 
tinued his destructive inroads. 

In South Carolina a new and able general had been placed in com- 
mand of the American troops. Gates had been removed after his 
defeat at Camden, and General Greene appointed to the command. 
Soon after he reached the army, though his force was little over two 
thousand men, he despatched the brave and daring General Morgan 
to western South Carolina, in order to check the devastations of the 
invaders in that quarter. Cornwallis, then about to enter North Caro- 
lina, sent Tarleton against Morgan, whom he did not wish to leave in 
his rear. Orders were given to "push him to the utmost." Of the 
events which immediately succeeded we select an account from the 
valuable "Life of Nathaniel Greene," by George W. Greene.] 

Tarleton, at this time, held the same place in the 
confidence of Cornwallis which Lee [Light-Horse Harry] 
held in that of Greene. He was bold, active, and enter- 
prising, and had distinguished himself by an adventurous 
spirit which was in perfect harmony with that of his com- 
mander. That he was cruel to a conquered enemy, and 
merciless in laying waste the districts occupied by the 
Whigs, does not seem to have been regarded as a taint 
upon his reputation. But, unlike Lee, he was deficient 
in judgment, often rash, cautious only when his adversary 
stood at bay, and boldest in the pursuit of a flying eneni}^. 
The order to push Morgan to the utmost was very wel- 
come to him, for he was stronger than the American gen- 
eral by discipline, equipments, and numbers, — his whole 
force somewhat exceedino; eleven hundred men, inclusive 



Greene] THE COW PENS. Hg 

of a detachment Irom the Eoyal Artillery, with two 

pieces. 

[Morgan, who had carefully watched the movements of his adver- 
sary, fell cautiously back, and on the evening of January 16, 1781, 
halted at a place named the Cowpens. Here he resolved to give battle. 
His choice of open ground for his battle-field seemed advantageous to 
Tarleton, as it gave the latter free room for the use of his dreaded 
cavalry.] 

When Morgan was blamed for fighting in an open coun- 
try, with a river in his rear, he calmly answei'ed, " I would 
not have had a swamp in view of my militia on any con- 
sideration ; they would have made for it, and nothing could 
have detained them from it. . . . As to retreat, it was the 
very thing I wished to cut off all hope of I would have 
thanked Tarleton had he surrounded me with his cavalry. 
. . . When men are forced to fight, they will sell their 
lives dearly. . . . Had I crossed the river, one-half of the 
militia would immediately have abandoned me."' 

[The men were scarcely ranged in order of battle when Tarleton 
came up, and at once prepared for assault. "Without heed to the fact 
that his men were weary from a long march, he thought to crush 
Morgan at a blow, and boldly charged upon him.] 

The American skirmishing line was the first to feel them 
as they came dashing on, even before their line was com- 
pletely formed. But all that Morgan asked of his skir- 
mishers was done, and, though compelled to give way 
before a charge of cavalry, they fell slowly back, firing as 
they retreated, and had emptied fifteen saddles before they 
took shelter with the first line. 

The English artillery now opened, and the whole line 
advanced upon the first line of the Americans, who, wait- 
ing calml}^ until the enemy was within one hundred yards, 
poured in a deadly fire. The English wavered and slack- 



120 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Greene 

ened their pace. Officers were falling at every discharge 
of the fatal rifle, and a visible confusion began to creep 
into their ranks. It was but momentary. Trained by 
severe discipline, and familiar with the sights and sounds 
of battle, they nerved themselves for the deadly encounter, 
and still moved firmly forward. For a while the militia 
held their ground, pouring in volley after volley, and every 
volley told. But the weight of the whole British line was 
upon them, and, reluctantly yielding to the pressure, they 
broke and took refuge behind the Continentals. Thus 
far nothing had occurred which Morgan had not foreseen 
and provided for ; but the decisive moment was at hand. 
Would the Marylanders fight as they had fought at Cam- 
den? 

The English, elated by the retreat of the militia, came 
forward with shouts and huzzas, quickening their pace, 
and somewhat deranging their order. The Americans 
received them with a well-directed fire, and for fifteen 
minutes the tide of fight swayed to and fro, the British 
pressing upon the Americans with the whole weight of 
their comj)act line, and the Americans holding their ground 
with undaunted firmness. Then Tarleton, unable to break 
them, and seeing his own men waver, ordered up his re- 
serve. At this moment Washington [Colonel William] was 
seen driving before him that part of tfie enemy's cavalry 
which had pursued the broken militia, and the militia 
itself, reformed and still of good heart, came resolutely 
up to the support of the second line. 

The British reserve came promptly into action ; and 
Howard, as he watched it, saw that it outstretched his 
front and put his right flank in danger. To meet the 
danger he ordered his right company to change front; 
but, mistaking the order, it began to fall slowly back, 
communicating its movement to the rest of the line. 



Greene] THE COW PENS. 12I 

Howard suw at a glance that he could still count upon 
his men ; for, supj^osing that they had been directed to fall 
back to a new position, they moved as calmly as they 
would have moved on pai'ade. Instead, therefore, of cor- 
recting the mistake, he accepted it, and was leading them 
to the second hill on which the cavalry had been stationed, 
when Morgan came up. 

"What is this retreat?" cried the stern old wagoner, in 
his sternest tones. 

"A change of position to save my right flank," answered 
Howard. 

" Are you beaten ?" 

" Do men who march as those men march, look as though 
they were beaten ?" 

"Eight! I will ride forward and choose you a new 
position, and, when you reach it, face about and give the 
enemy another fire." 

But before they reached the spot, came a messenger 
from Washington, who had charged and broken the Eng- 
lish cavalry. " They are coming on like a mob," he said. 
" Give them another fire, and I will charge them." In a 
moment the whole line again stood with face to the enemy, 
who, confident of victory; were eagerly pressing forward, 
filling the air with their shouts, and too confident and too 
eager to keep their ranks. In another moment they were 
shrinking back, stunned and bewildered by the fire of the 
Americans. 

" Give them the baj'onet," shouted Howard, and, pressing 
home his success, led his men upon them in a final charge. 
The shock was irresistible. Some threw away their arms 
and sought safety in flight ; but far the greater part threw 
down their arms and begged for quarter. Then an omi- 
nous cry began to be heard, and " Tarleton's quarters!" 
passed with bitter emj^hasis from mouth to mouth. But 
II. — F 11 



122 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Greene 

Morgan and his officers, throwing themselves among the 
men, and appealing to their better nature, succeeded in 
arresting the impulse of revenge before a life had been 
taken. When the moment for counting the immediate 
results of the battle came, it was found that the English 
had lost eighty killed, ten of whom were officers, one 
hundred and fifty wounded, and six hundred prisoners. 
. . . The American loss was twelve killed and sixty-one 
wounded. Morgan's entire command was about nine hun- 
dred and eighty strong. But, allowing for the numerous 
detachments which his position had compelled him to 
make, he cannot have had more than eight hundred with 
him in the battle. 

[This signal victory was followed by rapid and skilful movements. 
Cornwallis was but thirty miles distant, and was nearer than Morgan 
to the fords of the Catawba, over which lay the direct road to a junction 
with Greene. Destroying his heavy baggage, Cornwallis began a rapid 
march towards these fords. Morgan retreated towards them with still 
greater rapidity, and succeeded in crossing the river two hours before 
the vanguard of Cornwallis reached the other side. It was evening, 
and Cornwallis halted, feeling sure of overtaking Morgan in the morn- 
ing. But that night a heavy rain swelled the river, and rendered it 
impassable for two days. 

Greene, who had left his main body on the Pedee, now arrived and 
took command, with the idea of disputing the passage and awaiting 
reinforcements of militia. But the river fell so rapidly that a con- 
tinued retreat became necessary. Cornwallis destroyed the remainder 
of his baggage, reduced his men to the lightest marching order, forced 
the passage of the stream against a guard of militia, and continued 
the pursuit. Both parties now made all haste to the Yadkin, the 
Americans again being the first to reach the objective point. But 
they were so sharply followed that their rear-guard was attacked, and 
was obliged to abandon part of its baggage to effect a crossing. Here 
Cornwallis encamped, and again a sudden rise in the river took place, 
and checked his crossing. These two fortunate events were regarded 
by many as a direct interposition of Providence in favor of the Ameri- 
can cause. 



Greene] GUILFORD COURT-HOUSE. 123 

The retreat and pursuit continued, and only ended after Greene had 
reached Virginia and placed the Dan between himself and his foe. 
Mortified and disappointed by the result of his enei-getic eifort, Corn- 
wallis abandoned the pursuit, and slowly withdrew to North Carolina. 
Greene, receiving reinforcements, soon followed, and, with an army 
increased to forty-four hundred men, advanced to Guilford Court- 
House, where he took an advantageous position and awaited the 
enemy. Here Cornwallis attacked him on the 15th of March.] 

Shortly after one, the British van carao in view, and 
Singleton opened upon them with his two field-pieces. The 
English artillery was immediately brought forward, and a 
sharp cannonade was kept up for about twenty minutes, 
while Cornwallis was drawing up his men. He formed 
them in one line, with no reserve ; for, knowing their 
superiority in equipments and discipline, he was resolved 
to come at once to the bayonet, and drive his adversary 
before him by one great effort of combined and compact 
strength. . . . 

Watching the intervals of the enemy's fire, Cornwallis 
pushed his columns across the brook, under cover of the 
smoke from his own artillery ; and the different corps, 
deploying to the right and left in quick stej), were soon 
ranged in line of battle. 

For a moment Greene hoped i\\Qj would not be per- 
mitted to cross the open field unbroken, and every ear 
was listening eagerly for the sound of the JN'orth Carolina 
guns. But it was a moment's hope; for as the ill-nerved 
militia saw the enemy advance with firm countenance, 
and regular tread, and arms that flashed and gleamed in 
the slanting sun, they began to hesitate, and then to 
shrink ; and when, coming still nearer, he paused, poured 
in one deadly volley, threw forward his dreaded bayonet, 
and charged with a shout of anticipated triumph, they 
broke and fled, throwing away, in the madness of fear, 



124 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Greene 

their guns, most of them still loaded, their cartouch-boxes, 
and everything that could impede their movements. In 
vain their officers tried to stem the torrent of flight. 
Eaton and Butler and Davie threw themselves before 
them, seized them by the arms, exhorted, entreated, com- 
manded, in vain. Lee, spurring in among them, threat- 
ened to charge them with his cavalry unless they turned 
again upon the enemy. All was useless ; terror had over- 
mastered them ; and, dashing madly forward, they were 
quickly beyond the sound of remonstrance or threat. 

[The British eagerly pressed onward. And now came the turn of 
the Virginians.] 

Undismayed by the dastardly flight of the North Caro- 
linians, they saw the enemy advance, and, as he came 
within aiming-distance, opened upon him with the cool- 
ness of veterans and the precision of practised marksmen. 
Symptoms of disorder began to appear in the British 
ranks, and soon their line became sei'iously deranged. But 
still discipline held thein together ; and, pressing resolutely 
forward with the bayonet, they compelled the American 
right to give ground. The left still held firm. 

By this time all of the British army except the cavalry 
had been brought into action; all had suffered from the 
deadly fire of the Americans ; the line was broken and 
disunited; the corps scattered, from the necessity of facing 
the different corps of the Americans; and everjnhing 
seemed to promise Greene a sure victory. Cheei'ed with 
the prospect, he passed along the line of the Continentals, 
exhorting them to be firm and give the finishing blow. 

And soon, following the retreating right wing of the 
Virginians, "Webster came out on the open space around 
the court-house, and directly in front of Guuby's Mary- 
landers. Here for the first time discipline was opposed to 



Greene] GUILFORD COURT-HOUSE. 125 

discipline. The Americans poured in a well directed fire, 
and before the British, stunned and confused, could recover 
from the shock, followed it up with the bayonet. The 
rout was complete ; and had the cavalry been at hand to 
follow up the blow, or had Greene dared to bring forward 
another regiment and occupy an eminence which com- 
manded the field, the fate of the day would have been 
decided. But these were his only veterans, and the occur- 
rences of the next quarter of an hour showed the wisdom 
of his determination not to risk any movement that might 
endanger his last line. 

[The left of the Virginians had now given way, and the Second 
Maryland Eegiment broke and fled. But Gunby and Washington fell 
upon the advancing guards, and drove them back in rout. Cornwallis 
pressed forward to observe the field, and came near riding into the 
ranks of the enemy.] 

A sergeant of the Eoyal Welsh Fusileers saw his danger, 
and, seizing the bridle, guided him to the skirt of the wood. 
Here the whole scene broke upon him. He saw the rout 
of his best troops ; saw them mixed with their pursuers in 
irretrievable disorder. The headlong flight must be stayed, 
or the day was lost, and, with the daj^ the British army. 
From a small eminence on the skirt of the wood his artil- 
lery commanded the ground of the deadly conflict. 
" Open upon them, at once !" he cried. 
" It is destroying our own men," exclaimed O'Hara, who 
was bleeding fast from a dangerous wound. 

"I see it," rephed Cornwallis; "but it is a necessary 
evil, which we must endure to avert impending destruc- 
tion." 

O'Hara turned away with a groan. The fire was opened, 

striking down equally friends and foes. It checked the 

pursuit; but half the gallant battalion was destroyed. 

Still discipline retained its controlling and organizing 

II. 11* 



126 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Greene 

power. The shattered and disheartened troops were col- 
lected and formed anew ; formed amid the dead and dying, 
for a third of their number lay dead or wounded on the 
field. 

Meanwhile Greene also had pressed eagerly forward to 
get a nearer view of the field, without observing that there 
was nothing between him and the enemy but the saplings 
that grew by the roadside. But Major Burnet saw it, and 
warned him of his danger, as he was in the act of riding 
"full tilt" into them. Turning his horse's head, but with- 
out quickening his pace, he rode slowlj' back to his own 
line. 

It was a trying moment. He had heard nothing from 
Lee, and naturally feared the worst. The enemy were 
gaining ground on his right, and had already turned his 
left flank. The failure of the 2d Maryland regiment had 
confirmed his distrust of raw troops. It was evident also 
that the enemy had suff'ered severely. If he had not con- 
quered, he had crippled them. The chief object for which 
he had given battle was won ; and, faithful to the resolve 
not to expose his regulars needlessly, he ordered a retreat. 
The enemy attempted to pursue, but were soon driven 
back. At the Reedy Fork, three miles from the field 
of battle, he halted, drew up his men, and waited several 
hours for the stragglers to come in. Then, setting for- 
ward again, he returned to his old encampment at the 
iron-works of Troublesome Creek. 

[The American loss in killed and wounded was about four hundred, 
while the fugitives who returned to their homes increased the total loss 
to thirteen hundred. The British lost about five hundred. The result 
of the battle was little less than a defeat to Cornwallis, who gained no 
profit from Greene's retreat. In a very short time the latter was ready 
for battle again, which Cornwallis failed to offer. He soon after re- 
tired to Wilmington, while Greene advanced into South Carolina.] 



Holmes] THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. 127 

THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. 

ABIEL HOLMES. 

[Cornwallis having led his army to Wilmington, with the purpose 
of invading Virginia, General Greene boldly returned to South Caro- 
lina, and encamped on Hobkirk's Hill, a mile only from Lord Eaw- 
don's post at Camden. Here he was attacked on April 25, and, after 
nearly winnii\g a victory, was defeated through the flight of a Marj^- 
land regiment, whose panic communicated itself to the army. Yet 
the losses on both sides differed but little, and Lord Kawdon soon found 
it advisable to retire from Camden, while several British posts were 
taken by the Americans. The American successes continued, till, 
by the 5th of June, the British were confined to the three posts of 
Charleston, Eutaw Springs, and Ninety-Six. Greene besieged Ninety- 
Six, but failed to take it, and was forced to raise the siege by the 
approach of reinforcements under Lord Rawdon. This closed the oper- 
ations for the summer. On the 8th of September, Colonel Stewart, 
who had succeeded Lord Eawdon in command of the British forces, 
was attacked by General Greene at Eutaw Springs. The British were 
at first driven in, but afterwards managed to hold their ground, and 
after four hours of sanguinary conflict Greene withdrew his troops. 
During the night Stewart decamped. Soon after this battle the British 
withdrew entirely from the open country, and confined themselves to 
Charleston and its vicinity. These events closed the war in the Caro- 
linas, the British having been driven, by Greene's skilful operations, 
from all their conquests, and confined to the two cities of Charleston 
and Savannah. 

Cornwallis had, meanwhile, left Wilmington and marched north, 
with the expressed purpose of conquering Virginia. The events which 
followed this movement were of momentous importance, as they led 
to a final termination of the war which had so long desolated the coun- 
try, and enforced the acluiowledgment of American independence. 
For the first time since the formation of the treaty with France the 
efforts of the latter country became of marked utility to America, 
and the French fleet and army had the honor of assisting in the closing 
scene of the war. A description of this important event we select from 



128 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes 

Holmes's "Annals of America," in which it is given briefly but with 
clear delineation.] 

Virginia was destined to be a theatre of still more 
decisive operations. Lord Cornwallis reached Petersburg, 
without much opposition, on the 20th of May, and, form- 
ing a junction with Major-General Phillips, was now at 
the head of a very powerful army. The defensive oper- 
ations in opposition to this hostile force were principally 
intrusted to the Marquis de la Fayette. The marquis ad- 
vanced to Eichmond ; but such was the superiority of 
numbers on the side of the British that he retired with 
his little army, which consisted of about one thousand 
regulars, two thousand militia, and sixty dragoons. Lord 
Cornwallis advanced from Petersburg to James Eiver, 
which he crossed at Westown, and, marching through 
Hanover County, crossed Pamunkey Eiver. The young 
marquis followed his motions, but at a guarded distance ; 
and his judgment in the selection of posts, with the vigor 
of his movements, would have reflected honor on a vet- 
eran commander. In the course of these marches and 
countermarches, immense quantities of property were de- 
stroyed by the British troops, and several unimportant 
skirmishes took place. Earl Cornwallis, who had marched 
with his army to Portsmouth, was at length instructed by 
an express from Sir Henry Clinton to secure Old Point 
Comfort or Hampton Eoad as a station for line-of-battle 
8hij)s, and was allowed to detain any part or the whole of 
the forces under his command for completing that service. 
A strong and permanent place of arms in the Chesapeake, 
for the security of both the army and navy, being a prin- 
cipal object of the campaign, and Portsmouth and Hamp- 
ton Eoad having been pronounced unfit for that purpose, 
Portsmouth was evacuated, and the British troops, amount- 
ing to seven thousand men, were transferred to Yorktown. 



Holmes] THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. 129 

Lord Cornwallis assiduously applied himself to fortify his 
new posts. While the officers of the British navy were 
expecting to be joined by their fleet in the West Indies, 
preparatory to vigorous operations in Virginia, Count de 
Grasse with a French fleet of twenty-eight sail of the line 
entered the Chesapeake, and, having blocked up York 
Eiver with three large ships and some frigates, moored 
the principal part of his fleet in Lynnhaven Bay. From 
this fleet three thousand two hundred French troops, com- 
manded by the Marquis de St. Simon, were disembarked, 
and soon after formed a junction with the Continental 
troops under the Marquis de la Fayette, and the whole 
combined army took post at Williamsburg. Admiral 
Graves, with twenty sail of the line, attempted the relief 
of Loi-d Cornwallis ; but, when he appeared off the capes 
of Virginia, M. de Grasse went out to meet him, and an 
indecisive engagement took place. While the two admi- 
rals were manoeuvring near the mouth of the Chesapeake, 
Count de Barras, with a French fleet of eight line-of-battle 
ships from Ehode Island, passed the British fleet in the 
night, and got within the capes of Virginia ; and by this 
combination the French had a decided superiority. Ad- 
miral Graves soon took his departure ; and M. de Grasse 
re-entered the Chesapeake. 

In the mean time, the combined forces of France and 
America, by an effectual but unsuspected plan of opera- 
tions, were tending, as to a central point, to Virginia. As 
early as the month of May, a plan of the whole campaign 
had been fixed on by General Washington in consultation 
with Generals Knox and Du Portail on the part of the 
Americans, and Count de Eochambeau and the Chevalier 
Chastellux on the part of the French, in an interview at 
AVethersfield. The project was to lay siege to New York 
in concert with a French fleet, which, was to arrive on the 
II. — i 



130 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes 

coast in the month of August. In prosecution of this plan, 
the Northei-n States were called on to fill up their battal- 
ions, and to have their quotas of militia in readiness on a 
week's notice. The French troops marched from Ehode 
Island and joined the American army early in July. 
About the same time, General Washington marched his 
army from its winter encampment, near Peek's Kill, to 
the vicinity of King's Bridge; General Lincoln fell down 
North Eiver, and took possession of the ground where 
Fort Independence formerly stood ; and the British with 
almost the whole of their force retired to York Island. 
General Washington was diligent in preparing to com- 
mence operations against New York. Flat-bottomed boats 
sufficient to transport five thousand men were built near 
Albany, and bi-ought down Hudson's River to the neighbor- 
hood of the American army ; ovens were built opposite to 
Staten Island for the use of the French troops ; and every 
movement was made for the commencement of a siege. 
About the middle of August, General Washington was in- 
duced to make a total change of the plan of the campaign. 
The tardiness of the States in filling up their battalions 
and embod^'ing their militia, the peculiar situation of Lord 
Cornwallis in Virginia, the arrival of a reinforcement of 
three thousand Germans from Europe to New York, the 
strength of the garrison of that city, and especially intel- 
ligence from Count de Grasse that his destination was fixed 
to the Chesapeake, determined the general to direct the 
operations of the combined arms against Lord Cornwallis. 
Having resolved to lead the expedition in person, he com- 
mitted the defence of the posts on Hudson's River to Major- 
General Heath, and proceeded on the grand enterjjrise. 
While, with consummate address, he kept up the appear- 
ance of an intention to attack New York, the allied army, 
amounting collectively to twelve thousand men, crossed 



Holmes] THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. 131 

the North Eiver, and passed on by the way of Philadel- 
phia to Yorktown: General Washington and Count Eo- 
chambeau reached Williamsburg on the 14th of September, 
and, with Generals Chasteilux, Du Portail, and Knox, vis- 
ited Count de Grasse on board his ship and agreed on a 
plan of operations. 

Yorktown is a small village on the south side of York 
River, whose southern banks are high, and in whose waters 
a ship of the line may ride with safety. Gloucester Point 
is a piece of land on the opposite shore, projecting deeply 
into the river. Both these posts were occupied by Lord 
Cornwallis ; and a communication between them was com- 
manded by his batteries, and by some ships of war. The 
main body of his army was encamped on the open grounds 
about Yorktown, within a range of outer redoubts and field- 
works ; and Lieutenant-Colonel Tarleton with a detach- 
ment of six hundred or seven hundred men held the post 
at Gloucester Point. The legion of the Duke de Lauzun, 
and a brigade of militia under General Weedon, the whole 
commanded by the French general De Choise, were directed 
to watch and restrain the enemy on the side of Gloucester; 
and the grand combined army, on the 30th of September, 
moved down to the investiture of Yorktown. In the even- 
ing the troops halted about two miles from York, and lay 
all night on their arms. Causeways .having been con- 
structed in the night over a morass in front of the British 
works, the Continental infantry marched the next morn- 
ing in columns to the right of the combined forces. A few 
cannon-shot were fired from the British work on the Hamp- 
ton road ; and some riflemen skirmished with the pickets 
of the Anspach battalions on the left. The two armies 
cautiously observed each other; but nothing material 
occurred until evening, when an express-boat arrived at 
Yorktown with a letter from Sir Henry Clinton to Earl 



132 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes 

Cornwallis, giving him assurance that joint exertions of 
the army and navy would be made for his rehef To this 
letter is attributed an order for the British troops to quit 
the outward and retire to the inner position ; in compli- 
ance with which, that movement was effected before day- 
break. The next morning, Colonel Scammell with a recon- 
noitring party, falling in with a detachment of picked 
dragoons, was driven back, and in attempting a retreat 
was mortally wounded, and taken prisoner. He was an 
officer of great merit, and his death was deeply lamented. 
In the course of the forenoon the allies took possession of 
the ground that had been abandoned by the British. 

On the 9th and 10th of October the French and Ameri- 
cans opened their batteries. On the night of the 11th the 
second parallel was opened within three hundred yards of 
the British lines. The besiegers being annoyed in their 
trenches by two redoubts that were advanced in front 
of the British works, it was proposed to carry them hj 
storm. The reduction of one redoubt was committed to 
the French ; of the other, to the Americans. The Marquis 
de la Faj'ette commanded the American detachment of 
light infantry, against the redoubt on the extreme left 
of the British works ; and the Baron de Yiomenil led the 
French grenadiers and chasseurs against the other, which 
was farther toward the British right, and nearer the 
French lines. On the evening of the 14th the two de- 
tachments moved firmly to the assault. Colonel Hamilton 
led the advanced corps of the Americans ; and Colonel 
Laurens, at the head of eighty men, turned the redoubt, 
in order to take the garrison in reverse and intereej)t 
their retreat. The troops rushed to the assault with un- 
loaded arms, and in a few minutes carried the redoubt, 
with inconsiderable loss. The French were also success- 
ful. The redoubt assigned to them was soon carried, but 



Holmes] THE SURRENDER OF CORN WAL LIS. 133 

with less rapidity and greater loss. These two redoubts 
were included the same night in the second parallel, and 
facilitated the subsequent operations of the besiegers. 

On the 16th a sortie was made fi'om the garrison by a 
party of three hundred and fifty, commanded by Lieuten- 
ant-Colonel Abercrombie, who forced two batteries and 
spiked eleven pieces of cannon ; but, the guards from the 
trenches immediately advancing on them, they retreated, 
and the pieces which they had hastily spiked were soon 
rendered fit for service. In the afternoon of the same 
day the besiegers opened several batteries in their second 
parallel ; and in the whole line of batteries nearly one 
hundred pieces of heavy ordnance were now mounted. 
The works of the besieged were so universally in ruins as 
to be in no condition to sustain the fire which might be 
expected the next day. In this extremity, Lord Corn- 
wallis boldly resolved to attempt an escape by land with 
the greater part of his army. His plan was to cross over 
in the night to Gloucester Point, cut to pieces or disperse 
the troops under De Choise, and, mounting his infiintry 
on the horses belonging to that detachment, and on others 
to be seized on the road, to gain the fords of the great 
rivers, and, forcing his way through Maryland, Pennsyl- 
vania, and Jersey, to form a junction with the royal army 
at New York. In prosecution of this desperate design, 
one embarkation of his troops crossed over to the Point ; 
but a violent storm of wind and rain dispersed the boats 
and frustrated the scheme. 

In the morning of the 17th several new batteries were 
opened in the second parallel ; and, in the judgment of 
Lord Cornwallis, as well as of his engineers, the place 
was no longer tenable. About ten in the forenoon his 
lordship, in a letter to Genei-al Washington, requested 
that there might be a cessation of hostilities for twenty- 
II. 12 



134 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes 

four hours, and that commissioners might be appointed to 
digest terms of capitulation. The American general in 
his answer declared his '• ardent desire to spare the further 
effusion of blood, and his readiness to listen to such terms 
as were admissible," and gi-anted a suspension of hostili- 
ties for two hours. The general propositions stated by 
Lord Cornwallis for the basis of the proposed negotiation 
being such as to lead to the opinion that the terms of 
capitulation might without much difficulty be adjusted, 
the suspension of hostilities was prolonged through the 
night. Commissioners were appointed the next day to 
digest into form such articles as General Washington had 
drawn up and proposed to Lord Cornwallis ; and early the 
next morning the American general sent them to his lord- 
ship with a letter expressing his expectation that they 
would be signed by eleven, and that the garrison would 
march out by two in the afternoon. Lord Cornwallis, 
submitting to a necessity absolutely inevitable, surren- 
dered the posts of Yorktown and Gloucester Point with 
the garrison, and the shipping in the harbor with the 
seamen, to the land and naval officers of America and 
France. By the articles of capitulation, the officers were 
to retain their side-arms and private property. The sol- 
diers, accompanied by a due proportion of officers, were 
to remain in Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania ; and 
the officers not required for this service were to be allowed 
to go on parole to Europe or to any maritime port occupied 
by the English in America. 

The garrison marched out of the town with colors 
cased; and General Lincoln, by appointment, received 
the submission of the royal army precisely in the same 
manner in. which the submission of his own army had 
been previously made at the sm-render of Charleston. 

[The army and officers, and particularly the artillerists and engi- 



Holmes] THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. 135 

neers, received great approbation for their excellent conduct in this 
decisive operation. Several of the officers were promoted, others were 
honorably mentioned, while the Count de Kochambeau received the 
highest acknowledgments. Congress passed resolutions of thanks to 
the French officers and army, and resolved that a monument should 
be erected at Yorktown in commemoration of the triumphant event.] 

General Washington, on this very joj'ful occasion, ordered 
that those who were under arrest should be pardoned and 
set at liberty, and closed his orders in the following pious 
and impressive manner: "Divine service shall be per- 
formed to-morrow in the different brigades and divisions. 
The commander-in-chief recommends that all the troops 
that are not upon duty do assist at it wiih a serious de- 
portment, and that sensibility of heart which the recollec- 
tion of the surprising and particular interjiosition of Divine 
Providence in our favor claims." Congress resolved to go 
in solemn procession to the Dutch Lutheran church, to 
return thanks to Almighty God for crowning the allied 
arms with success, and issued a proclamation appointing 
the 13th day of December " as a day of general thanks- 
giving and prayer, on account of this signal interposition 
of Divine Providence." 

[Although some minor hostilities continued, the surrender of Coi'n- 
wallis virtually ended the war, which now grew strongly unpopular in 
England. Commissioners for negotiating peace were soon after ap- 
pointed. On the part of the United States these wei'e John Adams, 
Benjamin Franklin, John Jay, and Henry Laurens; on the part of 
Great Britain, Mr. Fitzherbert and Mr. Oswald. Provisional articles 
were agreed to on November 30, and a cessation of hostilities was 
ordered on January 20 of the following year. During this year the 
independence of the United States was generally acknowledged 
throughout Europe, and the final treaty of peace was signed on Sep- 
tember 3. The British had been compelled to evacuate Savannah and 
Charleston during 1782, and on the 2.5th of November, 1783, New 
York was evacuated, and the country finally freed of the foe against 
whom its people had so long and so bitterly contended.] 



136 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Marshall 



SECTION VIII. 
THE UNION FOUNDED AND SUSTAINED 



THE ARMY AND COUNTRY AFTER THE WAR. 

JOHN MARSHALL. 

[The close of the Revohitionary War found America in anything 
but an enviable state. Financially there was a complete collapse. 
The army, unpaid, and with no prospect of being paid, was in a des- 
perate and dangerous mood. The only man who possessed any con- 
trolling influence over it was its illustrious commander ; and had he 
been ambitious of power the newly-formed government might have 
been overturned, and a monarchy erected upon its ruins. Happily, 
Washington was a patriot in the fullest sense. His one controlling 
thought was the good of his country, and all his great influence was 
used to abate the discontent of the soldiers, and to remove the perils 
which threatened the infant republic. 

The country had become virtually bankrupt. The year 1782 opened 
without a dollar in the public treasury. Congress had required the 
payment of two millions on the 1st of April, yet not a cent had been 
received by the 23d of that month. Rigid reforms in expenditure 
had been introduced, yet the absolutely necessary expenses could 
not be met, and on the 1st of June only twenty thousand dollars, little 
more than was required for the use of one day, had reached the treasury. 
Robert Morris, the minister of finance, made every possible exertion to 
sustain the public credit. The bank he had established at Philadel- 
phia, and the system of credit he had inaugurated, were of the utmost 
utility; but they could not accomplish miracles, and miracles were 
needed to pay money out of an empty purse. 

Fortunately for America, the British public was thoroughly tired of 



Marshall] AFTER THE WAR. 137 

the war, and the sentiment in Parhament soon became overpoweringly 
in favor of peace. Yet it was not certain that peace would be declared, 
while it was evident that Great Britain was seeking to make terms 
with the European allies of America. No important warlike opera- 
tions took place, however. The British army lay quietly in New 
York, and its commander took measures to restrain those incursions 
of hostile Indians upon the frontier settlements which had formed a 
terrible part of the British policy during the war. That the commis- 
sioners at Paris would succeed in making a treaty of peace became 
evident as time went on. Yet the army was still under arms, and still 
unpaid. The States grew more and more lax in forwarding their con- 
tributions to the minister of finance, and Congress was without power 
to lay a tax, or to enforce payment from the States. A state of affairs 
had been reached in which the fatal weakness of the established form 
of union became evident, and the necessity of a stronger central gov- 
ernment vitallj' apparent. By the month of August only eighty thou- 
sand dollars had been received from all the States, a sum barely sufB- 
oient for the subsistence of the army. To pay the troops was impossible, 
and nearly every other debt remained unpaid. The events which suc- 
ceeded this distressing state of affairs may be given in a selection from 
Chief-Justice Marshall's " Life of George Washington," in which they 
are detailed at length.] 

It was then in contemplation to reduce the army, by 
which many of the officers would be discharged. While 
the general declared, in a confidential letter to the Secre 
tary of War, his conviction of the alacrity with which 
they would retire into private life, could they be placed 
in a situation as eligible as that they had left to enter into 
the service, he added, " Yet I cannot help fearing the re- 
sult of the measure, when I see such a number of men 
goaded by a thousand stings of reflection on the past, and 
of anticipation on the future, about to be turned into the 
world, soured by penury, and what they call the ingrati- 
tude of the public ; involved in debts, without one farthing 
of money to carry them home, after having spent the 
flower of their days, and, many of them, their patrimo- 
II. 12* 



138 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Marshall 

nies, in establishing the freedom and independence of their 
country, and having suffered everj'tbing which human 
nature is capable of enduring on this side of death. 1 
repeat it, when I reflect on these irritable circumstances, 
unattended by one thing to soothe their feelings or brighten 
the gloomy prospect, I cannot avoid apprehending that a 
train of evils will follow of a very serious and distressing 
nature. . . . You may rely u^ion it, the patience and long- 
suffering of this army are almost exhausted, and there 
never was so great a spirit of discontent as at this instant. 
While in the field, I think it may be kept from breaking 
out into acts of outrage ; but when we retire into winter 
quarters (unless the storm be previously dissij)ated) I 
cannot be at ease respecting the consequences. It is high 
time for a peace." 

[A resolution had been passed in 1780, granting half-pay for life to 
the officers. Yet not only was there no prospect of money to meet 
this requirement, but a spirit unfriendly to the law had arisen in Con- 
gress. This legislative hostility increased the irritation of the officers. 
In October the army went into winter-quarters. Washington re- 
mained in camp, not through fear of military operations, but from 
dread of some outbreak of violence in the army.] 

In America the approach of peace, combined with other 
causes, pi'oduced a state of things highly interesting and 
critical. There was much reason to fear that Congress 
possessed neither the power nor the inclination to comply 
with its engagements to the army ; and the officers who 
had wasted their fortunes and their prime of life in unre- 
warded service could not look with unconcern at the pros- 
pect which was opening to them. In December, soon 
after going into winter-quarters, the}'' presented a petition 
to Congress, respecting the money actually due them, and 
the commutation of the half-pay stipulated by the reso- 
lution of October, 1780, for a sum in gross, which they 



Marshall] AFTER THE WAR. 139 

flattered themselves would be less objectionable than the 
half-pay establishment. 

[There was a strong party in Congress jealous of and hostile to the 
demands of the army. The question of funding the public debt, 
whether in State or Continental securities, was also a subject of slow 
debate.] 

In consequence of these divisions on the most interest- 
ing points, the business of the army advanced slowly; and 
the important question regarding the commutation of their 
half-pay remained undecided in March, when intelligence 
was received of the signature of the preliminary and 
eventual articles of peace between the United States and 
G-reat Britain. 

Soured by their past sufferings, their present wants, and 
their gloomy prospects, and exasperated by the neglect 
with which they believed themselves to be treated, and 
by the injustice supposed to be meditated against them, 
the ill-temper of the army was almost universal, and 
seemed to require only a slight impulse to give it activity. 
To render this temper the more dangerous, an opinion 
had been insinuated, that the commander-in-chief was 
restrained by extreme delicac}^ from advocating their in- 
terests with tbat zeal which his feelings and knowledge 
of their situation had inspired. Early in March a letter 
was received from their committee in Philadelphia, show- 
ing that the objects they soHcited had not been obtained. 
On the 10th of that month an anonymous paper was cir- 
culated, requiring a meeting of the general and field 
officers at the public building on the succeeding day at 
eleven in the morning. . . . 

On the same day was privately circulated an address to 
the army, admirably well prepared to work on the pas- 
sions of the moment and to conduct them to the most 
desperate resolutions. . . . 



140 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Marshall 

Persuaded as the officei's in general were of the indis- 
position of government to remunerate their services, this 
eloquent and passionate address, dictated by genius and 
by feeling, found in almost every bosom a kindred though 
latent sentiment, prepared to receive its impression. Like 
a train to which a torch is applied, the passions quickly 
caught its flame, and nothing seemed to be required but 
the assemblage invited on the succeeding day to commu- 
nicate the conflagration to the combustible mass, and to 
produce an explosion alike tremendous and ruinous. 

Fortunately, the commander-in-chief was in camp. His 
characteristic firmness and decision did not fail him in this 
crisis. The occasion required that his measures should be 
firm, yet prudent and conciliatory; evincive of his firm 
determination to oppose any rash proceedings, but calcu- 
lated to assuage the irritation which was excited and to 
restore a confidence in government. This course he at once 
adopted. Knowing well that it was much easier to avoid 
intemperate measures than to correct them, he thought it 
of essential importance to prevent the immediate meeting 
of the officers ; but, knowing also that a sense of injury 
and fear of injustice had made a deep impression on them, 
and that their sensibilities were all alive to the proceedings 
of Congress on their memorial, he thought it more ad- 
visable to guide than to discountenance their delibera- 
tions on that interesting subject. 

[Washington's efforts in this direction proved successful. Though 
the anonjniious writer circulated another insidious document on the 
succeeding day, the admirable address made them by the commander- 
in-chief powerfully impressed the officers, and drew from them a series 
of resolutions expressive of confidence in Congress and the country 
and strongly condemning the sentiments of the unknown writer. 
Washington then wrote to Congress, and induced that body to pass 
the commutation resolution.] 



Marshall] AFTER THE WAR. 141 

The treaty between the United States and Great Britain 
being eventual, it furnished no security against a continu- 
ance of the calamities of war ; and the most serious fears 
were entertained that the difficulties opposed to a general 
pacification would not be removed. These fears were 
entirely dispelled by a letter from the Marquis de La 
Fayette announcing a general peace. This intelligence, 
though not official, was certain ; and orders wei-e immedi- 
ately issued recalling all armed vessels cruising under the 
authority of the United States. Early in April the copy 
of a declaration published in Paris, and signed by the 
American commissioners, notifying the exchange of rati- 
fications of the preliminary articles between Great Britain 
and France, was received; and the cessation of hostilities 
was proclaimed. 

The attention of Congress might now safely be turned 
to the reduction of the Continental army. This was a 
critical operation, and, in the present state of the funds, 
by no means exempt from danger. Independent of the 
anxieties which the officers would naturally feel respecting 
their future provision, which of necessity remained un- 
secured, large arrears of pay were due to them, the im- 
mediate receipt of part of which was necessary to supply 
the most urgent wants. To disband an army to which 
the government was greatly indebted, without furnishing 
the means of conveying the individuals who composed it 
to their respective homes, could scarcely be undertaken ; 
and Congress was unable to advance the pay of a single 
month. 

Although for the year 1782 eight million had been re- 
quired, the payments made into the public treasury under 
that requisition had amounted to only four hundred and 
twenty thousand and thirtj^-one dollars and twenty-nine 
ninetieths, and the foreign loans had not been sufficient 



142 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Marshall 

to defray expenses it was impossible to avoid. At the 
close of that year the expenditures of the superintendent 
of the finances had exceeded his receipts four hundred and 
four thousand seven hundred and thirteen dollai's and 
nine ninetieths, and the excess continued to increase. 

[Congress, in this dilemma, instructed the commander-in-chief to 
grant furloughs freely to the officers and men, hoping thus quietly to 
reduce the army. This order produced serious alarm. It was sup- 
posed that the authorities were seeking to get rid of them without 
paying them, and Washington's persuasions dnd influence were again 
necessary to quiet the murmurs. He succeeded in this troublesome 
task.] 

The utmost good temper was universally manifested, 
and the arrangements for retiring on furlough were made 
without a murmur. In the course of the summer a con- 
siderable proportion of the troops enlisted for three years 
were also permitted to return to their homes ; and in 
October a proclamation was issued by Congress declaring 
all those who had engaged for the war to be discharged 
on the third of December. 

While these excellent dispositions were manifested by 
the veterans serving under the immediate eye of their 
patriot chief, the government was exposed to insult and 
outrage from the mutinous spirit of a small party of new 
levies. About eighty of this description of troops belong- 
ing to the State of Pennsylvania were stationed at Lan- 
caster. Revolting against the authority of their oflScers. 
they marched in a body to Philadelphia, with the avowed 
purpose of obtaining a redress of their grievances from 
the Executive Council of the State. The march of these 
insolent mutineers was unobstructed, and after arriving in 
Philadelphia they were joined by some other troops quar- 
tered in the barracks, so as to amount to about three 
hundred men. They then marched in military parade, 



Marshall] AFTER THE WAR. 143 

with fixed bayonets, to the State-House, where Congress 
and the Executive Council of the State were sitting. After 
placing sentinels at all the, doors, they sent in a written 
message, threatening the President and Council of the 
State to let loose an enraged soldiery upon them if their 
demands were not gratified in twenty minutes. Although 
the resentments of this banditti were not directed par- 
ticularly against Congress, the government of the Union 
was grossly insulted, and those who administered it wei'e 
blockaded for several- hours by an insolent and licentious 
soldier3^ After remaining in this situation about three 
hours. Congress separated, having fixed on Princeton as 
the place at which they should reassemble. 

On receiving information of this outi'age, the com- 
mander-in-chief instantly detached fifteen hundred men 
under the command of Major-General Howe to suppress the 
mutiny. The indignation which this insult to the civil au- 
thority had occasioned, and the mortification with which 
he viewed the misconduct of any portion of the American 
troops, were strongly marked in his letter written on that 
occasion to the President of Congress. . . . 

Before the detachment from the army could reach Phil- 
adelphia, the disturbances were in a great degree quieted 
without bloodshed ; but Major-General Howe was oi-dered 
by Congress to continue his march into Pennsylvania, "in 
order that immediate measures might be taken to confine 
and bring to trial all such yjersons belonging to the army 
as have been principally active in the late mutiny; to 
disarm the remainder ; and to examine fully into all the 
circumstances relating thereto." . . . 

At length, on the 25th of November, the British troops 
evacuated New York, and a detachment from the Ameri- 
can army took possession of that town. 

The guards being posted for the security of the citizens, 



144 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Marshall 

General "Washington, accompanied by Grovernor Clinton, 
and attended by many civil and military officers and a 
large number of respectable inhabitants on horseback, 
made his public entry into the city, where he was re- 
ceived with every mark of respect and attention. His 
military course was now on the point of terminating; and 
previous to divesting himself of the supreme command he 
was about to bid adieu to his comrades in arms. 

This affecting interview took place on the fourth of 
December. At noon, the principal officers of the army 
assembled at Frances' tavern ; soon after which their be- 
loved commander entered the room. His emotions were 
too strong to be concealed. Filling a glass, he turned to 
them and said, " "With a heart full of love and gratitude I 
now take leave of you ; I most devoutly wish that your 
later days may be as prosperous and happy as your former 
ones have been glorious and honorable." Having drunk, 
he added, " I cannot come to each of you to take my leave, 
but shall be obliged to you if each of you will come and 
take me by the hand." General Knox, being nearest, 
turned to him. Incapable of utterance, "Washington 
grasped his hand, and embraced him. In the same affec- 
tionate manner he took leave of each succeeding officer. 
In every eye was the tear of dignified sensibility ; and 
not a word was articulated to interrupt the majestic 
silence and the tenderness of the scene. Leaving the 
room, he passed through the corps of light infantry, and 
walked to "Whitehall, where a barge waited to carry him 
to Powles' Hook. The whole company followed in mute 
and solemn procession, with dejected countenance^, testi- 
fying feelings of delicious melancholy, which no language 
can describe. Having entered the barge, he turned to the 
company, and, waving his hat, bade them a silent adieu. 
They paid him the same affectionate compliment, and, 



Marshall] AFTER THE WAR. 145 

after the barge had left them, returned in the same solemn 
manner to the place where they had assembled. 

[Washington proceeded to Annapolis, where Congress was then in 
session, in order to resign his commission into their hands. He reached 
there on December 19. It was determined that the ceremony should 
take place on Tuesday, December 23.] 

When the hour arrived for performing a ceremony so 
well calculated to recall to the mind the various interest- 
ing scenes which had passed since the commission now to 
be returned was granted, the gallery was crowded with 
spectators ; and many respectable persons, among whom 
were the legislative and executive characters of the State, 
several general officers, and the consul-general of France, 
were admitted on the floor of Congress. 

The representatives of the sovereignty of the Union re- 
mained seated and covered. The spectators were standing 
and uncovered. The general was introduced by the secre- 
tary, and conducted to a chair. After a decent interval, 
silence was commanded, and a short pause ensued. The 
President then informed him that "The United States in 
Congress assembled were prepared to receive his commu- 
nications." With a native dignity improved by the solem- 
nity of the occasion, the general rose and delivered the 
following addi'ess : 

" Mr. President, — 

" The great events on which my resignation depended 
having at length taken place, I have now the honor of 
offering my sincere congratulations to Congress, and of 
presenting myself before them, to surrender into their 
hands the trust committed to me, and to claim the indul- 
gence of retiring from the service of my countr}-. 

"Happy in the confirmation of our independence and 
II. — G k 13 



146 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Marshall 

sovereignty, and pleased with the opportunity afforded 
the United States of becoming a respectable nation, I 
resign with satisfaction the appointment I accepted with 
diffidence, — a diffidence in my abilities to accomphsh so 
arduous a task, which, however, was superseded by a con- 
fidence in the rectitude of our cause, the support of the 
supreme power of the Union, and the patronage of heaven. 

" The successful termination of the war has verified the 
most sanguine expectations; and my gratitude for the 
interj)osition of Providence, and the assistance I have re- 
ceived from my countiymen, increases with every review 
of the momentous contest. 

" While I repeat my obligations to the army in general, 
I should do injustice to my own feehngs not to acknowl- 
edge in this place the peculiar services and distinguished 
merits of the gentlemen who have been attached to my 
person during the war. It was impossible the choice of 
confidential officers to compose my family should have been 
more fortunate. Permit me, sir, to recommend in particu- 
lar those who have continued in the service to the present 
moment, as worthy of the favorable notice and patronage 
of Congress. 

" I consider it as an indispensable duty to close this last 
act of my official life by commending the interests of our 
dearest country to the protection of Almighty God, and 
those who have the superintendence of them to his holy 
keeping. 

" Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire 
from the great theatre of action, and, bidding an affection- 
ate farewell to this a^igwst body, under whose orders I 
have so long acted, I here offer my commission, and take 
my leave of all the employments of public life." • 

[This patriotic renunciation of power by Washington, so different 
from the example of Cassar, Cromwell, and other military heroes, who 



Frothingham] making OF THE CONSTITUTION. 147 

have ended wars at the head of victorious armies and with a country 
at their mercy, has deservedly excited the admiration of the world, 
and stamps George "Washington as one of the greatest men that 
ever led an army to battle. His address to Congress was eloquently 
replied to by General Mifflin, the President of that body, after which 
he retired to Mount Vernon, exchanging the labors of the camp for 
the industries of a farm, and bearing with him the esteem not only of 
his own countrymen, but of all civilized mankind. 

The financial result of the war Avas a foreign debt of eight millions 
and a domestic debt of more than thirty millions of dollars. The 
paper money of the Confederacy had become worthless, while the 
States were very slow in supplying money to pay the arrears due the 
soldiers and the other pressing debts. They had their own local debts 
to provide for, and their governments to support. The country was 
impoverished, and taxes could not be collected. Some of the States 
endeavored, by heavy taxation, to raise money to satisfy their cred- 
itors. In consequence of the disorganized condition of affiiirs, and 
the general distress, a serious insurrection, known as "Shays' Eebel- 
lion," broke out in Massachusetts, which it took a military force of 
several thousand men to suppress. It was becoming increasingly evi- 
dent that the hands of the central government must be strengthened 
and new methods of administration adopted, or the confederacy of the 
States would ere long fall to pieces of its own weight.] 



THE MAKING OF THE CONSTITUTION. 

RICHARD FROTHINGHAM. 

[The Articles of Confederation of the United States of America were 
finally ratified on the 1st of March, 1781, and announced to the public 
amid discharges of cannon on land and from the vessels in the Dela- 
ware, conspicuous among which was the Ariel frigate, Paul Jones 
commanding. Yet the Articles were scarcely confirmed, amid pane- 
gyrics both at home and abroad upon the government thus instituted, 
when they proved lamentably insufficient. Powers which had been 
before exercised by Congress were taken from it by the Articles, — par- 



148 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Fkothingham 

ticularly the control of commerce. Congress could obtain a revenue 
only by requisitions upon the States ; it had no common executive, no 
machinery by which to enforce its decrees, and formed rather a con- 
sulting body than a governmental power. 

Yet the Confederacy had its merits. It settled the long dispute 
between Connecticut and Pennsylvania, — one of the few instances 
of the adjustment of quarrels between independent States by an arbi- 
trating body. It met the pressing needs of the time, and served as an 
educational institution whose defects were lessons of the utmost value 
to the statesmen of America. It soon became generally felt that a 
change was necessary. Adams, Hamilton, Washington, and others 
deplored the weakness of Congress. A bill was passed recommending 
the States to lay an impost of five per cent, on imported goods. Some 
States acceded to this measure ; others failed to do so. Madison, con- 
sequently, urged " the necessity of arming Congress with coercive 
powers," in order to force the delinquent States to do their duty. 

The conclusion of the war, and the establishment of peaceful rela- 
tions between the United States and England, made the need of a 
revision of the governmental organization yet more clearly evident. 
Robert Morris wrote, " The necessity of strengthening our confederacy, 
providing for our debts, and forming some federal constitution, begins 
to be most seriously felt." Great Britain adopted measures calculated 
to create disunion between the States, endeavoring to treat with them 
as individuals. The war was succeeded by a commercial conflict, in 
which the recent enemy of the States sought in every way to restrict 
and hamper their commerce, adopting measures which the Confederacy 
proved inadequate to combat. 

It had become strikingly evident that a stronger government must 
be organized, and the legislators of the country applied themselves to 
the task. Most prominent among these advocates of a change of gov- 
ernment were Hamilton and Madison. These two men, both of them 
of unusual intellectual ability and thorough education in statesmanship, 
radically difl'ered in views. Hamilton supported the aristocratic sen- 
timent, distrusted the capacity of the people for self-government, 
and tended towards the formation of a vigorously centralized nation. 
Madison held opposite opinions, and advocated democratic doctrines. 
Minor differences of opinion existed. Franklin held to his long- 
entertained view of a single legislative body. Richard Henry Lee ob- 
jected to giving Congress the power to regulate commerce. Madison 
proposed to give Congress authority to veto State laws. He was also 



Frothixgham] making OF THE CONSTITUTION. I49 

the first to propose a government for the Union acting upon individ- 
uals instead of upon States. Washington took an active part in these 
expressions of opinion, and wisely remarked, " I do not conceive we 
can exist long as a nation without having lodged somewhere a power 
that will pervade the whole Union in as energetic a manner as the 
authority of the State governments extends over the several States." 
The succeeding events, which resulted in the formation and adoption 
of the Constitution of the United States, are admirably described in 
Frothingham's " Eise of the Kepublic of the United States," from 
which work we select a digest of this highly important legislative 
proceeding.] 

The method of obtaining an American Constitution 
through a representative convention was historical, and 
was suggested when the idea was to form a union that 
should be consistent with allegiance to the crow^n. It 
was renewed in the speculations on independence, and in 
" Common Sense," in 1776. When the aim was to reform 
the Confederation, a convention was suggested by Hamil- 
ton in 1780 ; by Pelatiah Webster in 1781 ; by the Xew 
York legislature in 1782 ; was named in Congress by 
Hamilton in 1783 ; was j^roposed by Eichard Henry Lee 
in a letter in 1784; and was recommended by Governor 
Bowdoin in a speech to the Massachusetts legislature in 
1785. Ko action, however, grew out of these suggestions. 
In 1786, the Assembly of Virginia, under the lead of jVIad- 
ison, appointed commissioners to meet in convention and 
consider the question of commerce, with the view of alter- 
ing the Articles of Confederation ; and it was made the 
duty of this committee to invite all the States to concur 
in the measure. 

[The convention met at Annapolis, with delegates from five States, 

on September 11, 1786. The representation was so partial that no 

action was taken, other than to urge the appointment of commissioners 

from all the States, to meet in Philadelphia, on the second Monday of 

II. 13* 



150 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frothingham 

the next May, to consider such measures as were necessary to adapt 
the Federal Constitution to the exigencies of the Union.] 

In the mean time, national affairs grew worse. To the 
chronic neglect to comply with the requisitions of Con- 
gress, the New Jersey legislature added positive refusal 
by an act of legislation. The legislatures of States having 
ports for foreign commerce taxed the people of other 
States trading through them ; others taxed imports from 
sister States ; in other instances the navigation-laws treated 
the people of other States as aliens. The authority of 
Congress was disregarded by violating not only the treaty 
of Paris, but treaties with France and Holland. . . . 

This was the period of " Shays' Eebellion" in Massachu- 
setts, in which the spirit and example of disobedience to 
law, exhibited for years by the local legislatures, broke out 
among a people. It created a profound impression. At 
home it seemed a herald of approaching anarchy ; abroad 
it exalted the hopes of monarchists and was regarded as 
the knell of republicanism. The treason was easily sub- 
dued by a military force, under General Lincoln, called out 
by Governor Bowdoin. It was the first rising in arms 
against a. government established by the people in this 
State, and thus far has proved the last. It had the effect 
to ripen the public mind for a general government. 

[Immediately after this event (November 9, 1786), Virginia ap- 
pointed commissioners to the projected convention. Other States 
quickly followed, all the States electing delegates except Ehode 
Island.] 

The delegates elect were summoned to meet in Phila- 
delphia on the fourteenth day of Maj" [1787], in Indepen- 
dence Hall ; but, a majority of the States not being then 
represented, those present adjourned from day to day until 
the twenty-fifth. They then organized into a convention, 




INDEPENDENCE HALL, PIIILAl U.LI Jl I A. 



Frothingham] making OF THE CONSTITUTION. 15] 

and elected George Washington as President. Sixtj^-five 
delegates had been chosen ; ten, however, did not take 
their seats. The credentials, generally, are like those of 
Virginia, which name, as the object, to devise "such fur- 
ther provisions as may be necessary to render the Federal 
Constitution adequate to the exigencies of the Union." 

The members were identified with the heroic and wise 
counsels of the Revolution. The venerable Franklin was 
in the Albany Convention, and now, at eighty-one, was the 
President of Pennsylvania. Johnson of Connecticut, Rut- 
ledge of South Carolina, and Dickinson, were in the Stamp 
Act Congress. Seven of the delegates were in the Con- 
gress of 1774. Eight of them signed the Declaration of 
Independence, one of whom, James Wilson, was next to 
Madison in ability, culture, and preparation for the work 
before them. Eighteen were then members of Congress, 
and only twelve had not been members of this body. 
Among the great men who were elected, but declined, 
were Eichard Caswell and Patrick Henry. The delegates 
most distinguished by Revolutionary service were Lang- 
don, Gerry, Sherman, Livingston, Read, Mifflin, Morris, 
Clymer, Wilson, Mason, Wythe, Rutledge, Randoljjh, the 
two Pinckneys, Madison, Hamilton, Dickinson, Franklin, 
and Washington. Of those who were destined to be widely 
known were Rufus King, Caleb Strong, Nathaniel Gorham, 
Oliver Ellsworth, Jared Ingersoll, and James McHenry. 
This roll of names marks the rank of this assembly as 
to intellect, character, exj^erience, and patriotism. 

The Convention was occupied for nearly four months 
(May 25 to September 17) in its great labor. Its sessions 
were held with closed doors; secrecy was enjoined, — no 
member being even allowed to copy fi'om its journal ; and 
little transpired of its proceedings until its adjournment. 
Its journal was intrusted to the keeping of Washington, 



152 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frothingham 

who deposited it in the State Department. It was printed 
by direction of Congress in 1818. Eobert Yates, one of 
the members from New York, made short notes of the 
debates in the earlier sessions, which were printed in 1821 ; 
and Madison took short-hand notes of each day's doings, 
which he wrote out daily. They were printed in 1840. 
Luther Martin, in a remarkable letter addressed to the 
legislature of Maryland, gave important information con- 
cerning the Convention. These and other authentic ma- 
terials furnish nearly a complete view of the process by 
which the Constitution of the United States was matured. 
The Virginia delegation, through Edmund Eandolph, 
then the governor, submitted fifteen resolutions concern- 
ing the establishment of a national government, to con- 
sist of a legislature of two branches, an executive, and a 
judiciary. Charles Pinckney also presented a draft of a 
Federal government. These propositions were referred to 
the committee of the whole. They were debated from 
day to day until the 13th of June, when nineteen resolu- 
tions were reported to the House. Before they were acted 
on, Mr. Patterson, of New Jersey (June 15), submitted 
eleven resolutions, proposing to revise the Articles of Con- 
federation, " so as to render the Federal Constitution ade- 
quate to the exigencies of government and the preserva- 
tion of the Union." These resolutions, together with the 
nineteen resolutions previously reported, were referred to 
the committee of the whole. In the discussion, after John 
Dickinson had spoken on the Articles of Confederation, 
Hamilton, in the course of a speech, read a paper contain- 
ing his ideas of a Plan of Government, with a legislature 
of two bi-anches, — the assembly to consist of persons wh" 
should serve for three years, and the senate, as well as 
the governor, the executive head, to serve during good 
behavior. He proposed that the general government 



J^'rothingham] making OF THE CONSTITUTION. 153 

should appoint the governor of each State, who should 
have a negative on the laws to be passed by the leo-is- 
lature. This plan was not acted on. On the 19th of June 
the committee of the whole reported to the House that 
they did not assent to the resolutions offered by the Hon. 
Mr. Patterson, but submitted again the nineteen reso- 
lutions before reported. The first was, " That it is the 
opinion of this committee that a National Government 
ought to be established, consisting of a supreme legisla- 
ture, judiciary, and executive." 

This determination to frame a new government brought 
face to face in the Convention the antagonisms of Ameri- 
can society : the errors of opinion and rooted prejudices ; 
the local interests, jealousies, and ambitions of the people 
of the several States. The slavery question rose to fearful 
eminence. It was connected with the question of represen- 
tation, or the mode in which the political power should be 
distributed. Madison, on the 30th of June, in an elaborate 
speech, delineated the great division of interests in the 
United States as not being between the large and the 
small States, but as arising from their having or not 
having slaves. "It lay," he said, "between the ISTorthern 
and Southern ;" and he went on to show how certain ar- 
rangements " would destroy the equilibrium of interests 
between the two sections." In this he probed the cause 
of the passion that mingled in the debates. The storm 
was fearful. "I believe," Luther Martin said, "near a 
fortnight, perhaps more, was spent in the discussion of 
this business, during which we were on the verge of dis- 
solution, scarce held together by the strength of a hair ;" 
and this is confirmed by a letter from Washington, who 
said that he almost despau-ed of seeing a favorable issue 
to the proceedings, and therefore repented of having had 
any agency in the business. 



154 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frothingham 

During this period Franklin made his well-known im- 
pressive speech on introducing a motion that prayers be 
said in the Convention. In another characteristic speech, 
on the wide diversity of opinion, he said that when a 
broad table is to be made, and the edges of planks do 
not fit, the ai'tist takes a little from both and makes a 
good joint. In like manner, here, both sides must part 
with some of their demands, in order that they may join 
in some accommodating proposition. The work of healing 
commenced when the compromise was agreed to, fixing 
the basis of representation by adding to the whole number 
of free persons, including those bound to serve for a term 
of 3^ears, and excluding Indians not taxed, three-fifths of 
all other persons, and giving to each State one represent- 
ative for every forty thousand inhabitants, and to each 
State an equal vote in the Senate. 

After the adjustment of representation, there remained 
the difficulty of discriminating between the two spheres 
of power, local and general. The proposal of Hamilton 
to endow a central government with power to appoint the 
local governors met with little, if any, favor. The advo- 
cates of the old Articles made it their chief point to pre- 
serve to the States their importance ; and Madison, the 
foremost advocate of the Virginia plan, said that "he 
would preserve the State rights as carefully as the trial by 
jury." The clear and jDrofound George Mason said that, 
" notwithstanding his solicitude to establish a national 
government, he never would agree to abolish the State 
governments, or render them absolutely insignificant. 
They were as necessary as the general government, and 
he would be equally careful to preserve them. He was 
aware of the difficulty of drawing the line between them, 
but hoped it was not insurmountable." He also said he 
was sure " that, though the mind of the jieople might be 



FROTHI^-GHAM] MAKING OF THE CONSTITUTION. 155 

unsettled on some points, yet it was settled in attachment 
to republican government." Local self-government, union, 
and rej)ublicanism were as laws inscribed on the tablets of 
the American heart ; and it was the office of the able men 
of the Convention to devise for their wants the letter of 
a written constitution. 

In these discussions the Convention had passed on the 
nineteen resolutions. On the 23d of July it was deter- 
mined that its proceedings "for the establishment of a 
national government," excepting the executive, should be 
referred to a committee, for the purpose of reporting the 
draft of a constitution conformably to them ; and the next 
day, when five members were reported as this committee, 
the propositions submitted by Pinckney and Patterson 
were also referred to it. On the 6th of August the com- 
mittee reported; when another month of debate followed, 
during which the clauses relative to the slave-trade and 
the rendition of slaves were agreed to, — on which hung 
mighty issues. They are of the past now. They were 
the price that was paid for republican government, an 
instrument of vast good in the present and for the 
future. On the 8th of September a committee of five was 
appointed " to revise the style of and arrange the articles 
agreed to by the House." This work was intrusted to 
Gouverneur Morris, and to him belongs the ci'edit of the 
simple style and clear arrangement of the Constitution. 
The committee reported on the twelfth, when the printing 
of the Constitution was ordered. Three days were occu- 
pied in revising it, when it was ordered to be engrossed. 
It was then read, when Franklin rose with a speech in his 
hand, which was read by James Wilson. 

" I confess," it begins, " that there are several pai'ts of 
this Constitution which I do not at present approve ; but 
I am not sure I shall never approve them. For, having 



156 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frothingham 

lived long, I have experienced many instances of being 
obliged, by better information or fuller consideration, to 
change opinions, even on important subjects, which I once 
thought right, but found to be otherwise. It is therefore 
that, the older I grow, the more apt I am to doubt my 
own judgment and to pay more respect to the judgment 
of others. ... 

" In these sentiments, sir, I agree to that Constitution, 
with all its faults, if they are such, because I think a gen- 
eral government necessary for us, and there is no form 
of government but what may be a blessing to the people 
if well administered ; and believe, further, that this is 
likely to be well administered for a course of years, and 
can only end in despotism, as other forms have done before 
it, when the people shall be so corrupted as to need despotic 
government, being incapable of any other." 

Franklin concluded by moving a form in which the Con- 
stitution should be signed by the members. 

[At this point Mr. Gorham, of Massachusetts, proposed to reduce 
the basis of representation from forty thousand to thirty thousand per- 
sons. This was sustained by Washington, in the only speech made by 
him during the Convention.] 

When he rose to put the question on the motion of Mr. 
Gorham, he said, — 

" That although his situation had hitherto restrained 
him from offering his sentiments on questions depending 
in the House, and, it might be thought, ought now to 
impose silence upon him, yet he could not forbear ex- 
pressing his wish that the alteration proposed might take 
place. It was much to be desired that the objections to 
the i^lan recommended might be made as few as possible. 
The smallness of the proportion of representatives had 
been considered, by many members of the Convention, an 



Frothingham] making OF THE CONSTITUTION. 157 

insufficient security for the rights and interests of the 
people. He acknowledged that it had always appeared to 
himself among the exceptionable parts of the plan ; and, 
late as the present moment was for admitting amendments, 
he thought this of so much consequence that it would give 
him much satisfaction to see it adopted." 

This impressive ajjpeal was followed by a unanimous 
vote in favor of the motion. There was then a vote on 
the question whether the Constitution should be agreed 
to as engrossed in order to be signed, and all the States 
answered ay. There was then a debate on signing. Ham- 
ilton now entered upon the course that reflects high honor 
on him as a patriot. He was anxious that every member 
should sign, saying, "No man's ideas were more remote 
from the plan than his own were known to be ; but is it 
possible to deliberate between anarchy and convulsion on 
one side, and the chance of good to be expected from the 
plan on the other ?" 

All the members signed the Constitution, excepting 
Edmund Eandolph and G-eorge Mason, of Virginia, and 
Elbridge Gerry, of Massachusetts. While the last mem- 
bers were signing, Franklin, the Nestor of the assembly, 
looking towards the President's chair, at the back of which 
a rising sun happened to be painted, observed to a few 
members near him that painters had found it difficult to 
distinguish in their art a rising from a setting sun. " I 
have," said he, " often and often, in the course of the ses- 
sion, and the vicissitudes of mj- hojDCs and fears as to its 
issue, looked at that behind the President, without being 
able to tell whether it was rising or setting ; but now, at 
length, I have the happiness to know that it is a rising 
and not a setting sun." The instrument was attested in 
the form submitted by him : " Done in Convention, by the 
unanimous consent of the States present, the 17th day of 
II. 14 



158 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frothijtgham 

September, in the year of our Lord 1787, and of the Inde- 
pendence of the United States of America the twelfth." 

[It was agreed that the Constitution should be transmitted to the 
governing body of each State, and when ratified by nine States, Con- 
gress should prepare for commencing proceedings under it. It was 
immediately circulated, and received with favor, and even enthusiasm. 
The secrecy of the Convention had given rise to unpleasant rumors, 
which the publication of the instrument set at rest.] 

The Constitution was instinctively and joyfully wel- 
comed by farmers, mechanics, and merchants. Soon, how- 
ever, the newspapers teemed with the views of men 
eminent for ability, honesty, and patriotism, against its 
adoption ; and they won adherents. Hence the country 
became divided into two great parties: one, called the 
Federalists, composed of those who were in favor of the 
ratification of the Constitution ; the other, termed anti- 
Federalists, or those opposed to the ratification, who could 
boast among their leaders the great names of George Clin- 
ton and Patrick Henry. 

The conflict of opinion was carried on in public meet- 
ings, through the press, and in the representative assem- 
blies, and all these in thought and action were unfettered. 
This constituted another great period in American history. 
It has been thoroughly explored and ably narrated. In 
advocating the adoption of the Constitution, James Wil- 
son madf a noble record in the Pennsylvania Convention 
and the popular forum, Hamilton and Madison shone in 
the State conventions and in the press. Their greatest 
legacy was their share in the "Eighty-five Essays," which 
appeared in a New York newspaper, under the signature 
of "Publius." In this they were associated with Jay, 
who, however, on account of illness, contributed only six 
of the number. These " Essays" were collected in the 



Trothingham] making OF THE CONSTITUTION. 159 

well-known volume entitled " The Federalist," which is a 
classic in American political literature. 

[The Constitution was ratified by conventions in the several States. 
Its character may be briefly outlined.] 

Union was acknowledged as an already existing fact ; 
and the object of the Constitution was declared to be to 
make a more perfect Union. Government is provided for 
in a legislature consisting of two branches to make laws, 
a judiciary to interpret the law, and an executive power 
in a President, "to take care that the laws be faithfully 
executed." The Senate is based on State equality, the 
House* on numbers. The powers enumerated which a 
government, under this Constitution, might exercise, were, 
in general, those which throughout the colonial age were 
proposed to be vested in a Union,— even the important 
power of levying taxes and collecting them, while leaving 
the local governments to levy and collect taxes for local 
purposes, being in Franklin's Albany plan. They provided 
for a government to act directly on individuals, instead of 
a league acting on States, as in the Articles of Confedera- 
tion ; for influence thus substituting public authority. 
The Union was endowed with political power supreme in 
its sphere; and though it had no power to make or to 
abolish the State governments, "yet," is the great com- 
ment of Madison, "if they were abolished, the General 
Government would be compelled, by the principle of self- 
preservation, to reinstate them in their proper jurisdic- 
tion." 

The spheres of the two governments, State and National, 
were defined with much exactness ; but, to determine con- 
troversies that might arise between the boundaries of their 
powers, it was provided that the judicial authority should 
extend to all cases under the Constitution, the laws, and 



160 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frothingham 

treaties, naming in the list controversies between two or 
more States, and that this power should be vested in a 
Supreme Court, to be established by Congress. 

The laws made in pui'suance of these powers, and all 
the treaties, were " to be the supreme law of the land," 
and the judges in every State were "to be bound thereby, 
anything in the Constitution or laws of any State to the 
contrar}^ notwithstanding ;" all officers, " both of the States 
and of the United States," were to bind themselves, " by 
oath or affirmation," to support this Constitution ; and it 
was to stand until amended in the form prescribed ; the 
final stage being that new articles should be ratified hj 
three-fourths of the several States, or by conventions of 
three-fourths of the States, as might be proposed by the 
Congress; with the proviso that no State, without its 
consent, should be deprived of its equal suffrage in the 
Senate. 

It was provided that the citizens of each State should 
be entitled to all the rights of citizens in the several States. 
The word "slave" is not in the Constitution; and so pe- 
cuhar and wise were the provisions, that, when State after 
State abolished slavery, no alteration was required to 
meet the great social change. Nor would any change 
have been required bad all the States abolished slavery. 
Recent amendments prohibit its establishment, as the 
original instrument prohibited the States from granting 
an order of nobility. 

Article seventh and last is, " The ratification of the 
conventions of nine States shall be sufficient for the estab- 
lishment of this Constitution between the States so rati- 
fying the same," 

On the 2d of July, 1788, the President of Congress in- 
formed that body that he had laid before them the rati- 
fication of the Constitution by the conventions of nine 



Hamilton] THE WHISKEY INSURRECTION. 161 

States. On that day a committee was appointed to re- 
port an act " for putting the said Constitution into opera- 
tion." It was not, however, until the 13th of September 
that Congress agreed upon a plan. . . . The first Wednes- 
day in March [1789] was fixed on as the time, and New 
York as the place, for commencing proceedings under the 
Constitution. 



THE WHISKEY INSURRECTION IN PENNSYLVANIA. 

JOHN C. HAMILTON. 

[The first test of the strength of the government founded on the 
new Constitution was made in Pennsylvania, in 1794, by a rebellion 
against the payment of the excise tax. But for the energy of the 
central authorities, this revolt might have risen to dangerous propor- 
tions. Seven years before, a revolt in Massachusetts against the pay- 
ment of State taxes had been suppressed by the local militia. Now 
the strength of the government of the Union was put to a similar 
test. The first attempt to collect internal taxes by act of Congress 
was through a law, passed in 1791, which imposed a tax on distilled 
spirits. This law at once became unpopular, especially with the 
Democratic party. The collection of the tax was evaded, and the 
law was finally openly defied, in western Pennsylvania. A rebellion 
was inaugurated, which called for the first exercise of Federal au- 
thority. A large military force from the neighboring States was called 
out by the President for its suppression. The story of this earliest 
rebellion against the authority of the United States is well told in 
Hamilton's " History of the Eepublic of the United States of America, 
as traced in the writings of Alexander Hamilton," from which valua- 
ble work we extract a brief account of the event. 

Efi"orts had been made to enforce the law by peaceful means, but 

these were violently resisted. The houses of collectors of the revenue 

were broken open by disguised men, and the collectors forced to 

resign their office. Later the insurgents grew more violent, tarring 

II.— ^ 14* 



162 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hamilton 

and feathering an inspector of the revenue, and finally organized a 
military association, declaring that they were amenable to State laws 
only, not to acts of the United States.] 

New efforts being made to enforce the laws, the mar- 
shal of the district was fired upon by a body of armed 
men. On the following day, the sixteenth of July, an 
attack by a larger body was made on the house of the 
inspector-general, Neville, in the vicinity of Pittsburg, 
who, after having gallantly defended himself, was obliged 
to retreat. On applying to the magistrates and comman- 
dants of the militia, he was informed that, owing to the 
general combination of the people, the laws could not be 
executed. 

The next day the insurgents reassembled in increased 
numbers, and renewed their attack upon the house of the 
inspector, who had called in a detachment from the gar- 
rison of Fort Pitt. It consisted of an officer and eleven 
soldiers. An effectual defence being rendered improbable 
from the inequality of numbers, the inspector retired, A 
parley took place under cover of a flag. The insurgents 
then required the troops to march out and ground their 
arms, — which being refused, a brisk firing ensued, and 
was continued until, the building being in flames, the few 
troops were compelled to surrender. One of the insur- 
gents, formerly an officer of the Pennsylvania line, was 
killed ; several of each party were wounded. The whole 
property of the inspector was consumed to the ground. 
The marshal was seized while coming to his aid. They 
were both ultimately compelled, in order to avoid personal 
injury, to descend the Ohio and by a circuitous route to 
jDrocecd to the seat of government. After these excesses 
a convention of delegates from the insurgents of the four 
western counties of Pennsylvania and the neighboring 
counties of Vir«:inia was called for the fourteenth of Au- 



Hamilton] THE WHISKEY INSURRECTION. 163 

gust at Parkinson's Ferry, to concert measures suited to 
the occasion. 

The period had at last certainly ai-rived when, in the 
language of the President, " the government could no 
longer remain a passive spectator of the contempt with 
which the laws were treated." 

[A proclamation was issued by the President, commanding the 
insurgents to disperse, while quotas of militia were called for from 
Pennsylvania, Virginia, Maryland, and New Jersey. These Governor 
MifSin, of Pennsylvania, who seemed to be in sympathy with the 
insurgents, hesitated to call out. He was, however, forced either to 
do so, or to break with the central government, and the militia volun- 
teered in greater numbers than were wanted, even members of the 
"Society of Friends" joining the force. Persons of wealth, and 
officers high in the old army, were found mustering with the common 
soldiers in the ranks. General Lee, then Governor of Virginia, was 
appointed to the chief command. Meanwhile, the insurgents had 
robbed the mails, and issued circulars citing passages from letters of 
the inspectors, and declaring that their interests were threatened, and 
that every citizen must prepare to defend himself.] 

They were invoked as "citizens" of the " Western Coun- 
try to render their personal services with as many volun- 
teei's as they could raise, to rendezvous at Braddock's 
Pield on the Monongahela, with arms and accoutrements 
in good order." An expedition was proposed, " in which 
you -will have an opportunity of displaying your military 
talents, and of rendering service to your country." 

The immediate object of this expedition was an attack 
on the garrison at Pittsburg and the seizure of its arms ; 
the u^ltimate design, the establishment of a tramontane 
State, separate from and independent of the Union. . . . 

In order to reach Braddock's Field, the militia of Wash- 
ington County, warm in the party of the insurgents, were 
obliged to cross to the east side of the Monongahela. They 
advanced, clad in their yellow hunting-shirts, their heads 



164 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hamilton 

bound with kerchiefs, the dress they wore in their conflicts 
with the Indians, which kept up, in this hardy frontier 
pojiulation, a temper Httle less than savage. 

Bradford stood on the bank, reviewing these battalions 
as they crossed. In one cii'cle the party who had burned 
the inspector's house were seen, each with his rifle, vent- 
ing their rage against its defenders, dej)]oring the death 
of their leader, threatening the commandant of Fort Fay- 
ette for the aid he had granted. Loud cries were heard 
of " Tom the Tinker with his bearskin budget." — His 
" iron was hot, his hammer was up ; he would not travel 
the country for nothing." 

Seven thousand men assembled in the course of the day, 
and encamped for the night. Here there was little sleep, 
for, though the firing of musketry had ceased, the night 
was spent by groups, gathered near the range of fires, in 
earnest discussion and mingled menaces. In the morning, 
deputies from each regiment were convened in a lone wood. 
Bradford read the intercepted letters, directing their fury 
against the authors. The question was put as to their 
treatment. Some denounced them with death. Others 
sought to soothe the irritation. OflScers were now ap- 
pointed, — Bradford and Cook, generals. The drums beat, 
and the line of march to the fort was taken. This small 
work was a quadrangle with bastions stockaded, and a 
block-house on two of the angles, each armed with a small 
piece of artillery. Weak as it was, the commander was 
Colonel Butler, a resolute soldier. To a demand for its 
surrender he replied with a determination to hold it at 
every peril. Meanwhile, to alarm the inhabitants of Pitts- 
burg, a noisy follower rode through the town, with upraised 
tomahawk, threatening the friends of order. The insur- 
gents paused at the moment of danger ; and, after a short 
parley, the larger number, dissuaded from their purpose, 



Hamilton] THE WHISKEY INSURRECTION. 165 

recrossed the river, leaving a few of the more determined, 
who, in detached parties, fired, during the night, the habi- 
tations of those who had supported the laws. 

The flight of the authors of the obnoxious letters and 
the pretended concurrence of the townsfolk in the objects 
of the insurgents saved Pittsburg from destruction. 

[The excitement increased, and another meeting took place on 
August 14. A liberty-pole was erected, bearing a red flag, with six 
stripes, one for each insurgent county, and the inscription, " Liberty 
and no Excise! No Asylum for Traitors and Cowards." Albert 
Gallatin (the afterwards prominent statesman) was secretary of this 
convention. Violent discussions ensued, with a strong sentiment in 
favor of war. Word now came that the commissioners of the gov- 
ernment were at hand. This produced an instant change in the cour- 
age of the assembly. More moderate resolutions were moved, and 
there were evidences of a disposition to accept the proffered terms,— a 
submission to the laws, with the promise that measures would be taken 
to ascertain the sense of the people.] 

Bradford would have rejected instantly the proifered 
terms. The angered, earnest, misled population, still be- 
lieving, as they had been taught by their leaders, that the 
excise laws were unconstitutional and oppressive, were 
read}' to sustain him. The only resource was to postpone 
the question for the night, and to induce the armed party 
to withdraw. 

The next day, relieved from the immediate presence of 
his followers, and trembhng before the insulted majesty of 
the government, Gallatin urged submission. Bradford, of 
too proud and firm a temper to truckle at the first alarm 
of danger, opposed conciliation. He declared the people 
only wanted fire-arms. With these they could obtain a 
victory over the militia army. Then they could establish 
an independent State. The Committee of Sixty were 
divided in opinion. Shrinking from the responsibility of 



166 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hamilton 

an open vote, it was proposed by Gallatin, and sustained 
by those in favor of submission, that it should be by secret 
ballot. The ballot was taken, and, as was after ascertained, 
thirty-four were in favor of terms, twenty-three against 
them. 

[The sentiment shown by this vote was not generally shared by the 
people. In various sections violent measures were proposed, and the 
insurgent spirit seemed so strong as to render it evident that no alter- 
native remained but the advance of the armed force. This Washing- 
ton had decided to accompany.] 

The adjacent States now presented an animating scene. 
On every side volunteers were offering, and, led by officers 
of the army of the Revolution, pressed to the sexwice. 
The militia of Maryland and Virginia, in which States 
attemjits %vere made to prevent the drafts, repaired to 
Cumberland. . . . Those of New Jersey under Governor 
Howel, and of Pennsylvania under Mifflin, were to be 
concentrated at Carlisle. 

[Gallatin and others of the moderate leaders of the populace now de- 
clared their submission to the authorities, and passed pacific i-esolutions.] 

Washington, meanwhile, had reached Carlisle. Here a 
large encampment had been formed. Tents were pitched 
at the base of the hills ; and from the centre of a vast 
amphitheatre the President addressed the gathered multi- 
tude. Loud greetings followed, and at night an illumina- 
tion blazed through the town. At this place, so changed 
in the direction of its feelings, Findley and Eeddick [two 
of the submissive insurgent leaders] now arrived. Fear- 
ing for their personal safety from the resentment of the 
troops, they spent the night three miles beyond the town, 
"passing for travellers going to Philadelphia." At sunrise 
the}^ waited on the President. Overawed by his cold, calm, 
majestic bearing, they presented the submissive resolutions, 



Hamilton] THE WHISKEY INSURRECTION. 167 

and withdrew. A hearing was given to them. Earnestly 
they sought to convince him of the restored quiet of the 
scene of disaffection, and to dissuade the onward movement 
of the troops. 

[In this object they failed. The army was ordered to continue its 
advance. " Leaders taken in arms were to be delivered up to the 
civil magistrates, the rest disarmed, admonished, and sent home." 
Washington now returned to Philadelphia, leaving the control of the 
expedition in the hands of Hamilton and the immediate command to 
Governor Lee.] 

The Alleghanies were now to be ascended. On the 
twenty-first of October the two light corps marched in 
advance. The body of the army moved the next day, 
the right wing under Mifflin, the left under Lee, the artil- 
lery, as a park, in the centre, where the cavahy, " who, 
though dangerous in the light, ai"e impotent in darkness," 
were stationed at night. On the march, chosen parties of 
horse were ordered to follow in the rear of each wing, to 
arrest stragglers and to protect the property of individuals. 
The orders for each day's march were prepared by Hamil- 
ton. Owing to recent heavy rains, the progress of the 
ami}' had become " extremel}^ arduous and distressing." 
Mountain after mountain of stupendous size rose before 
their anxious view, as beyond and all around them they 
beheld giddy precipices, overhanging cliffs, deep glades, 
far-extending valleys, and headlong torrents contending for 
an outlet among the craggy, age-mossed rocks, — the whole 
exhibiting the appearance of a vast magnificent ruin of 
years long gone by. 

For many a mile not a dwelling was to be seen, nor a 
sound to be heard, save the echo of the felling axe, or the 
cry of the startled wood-birds before the tramp of the ad- 
vancing troops, awed into silence by the drearj^ solitudes, 
— a silence only broken by the sudden cries of returning 



168 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hamilton 

scouts from amid the rude sequestered wilds, through 
whose forest depths the autumn sun scarce pierced its rare 
and broken rays. 

To guard against surprise among these passes, and to 
protect the country beyond them from devastation by 
these undisciplined levies, was a service of no less difficulty 
than to restrain mutiny prompted by unexpected hard- 
ships. Hamilton was ever on the alert. While the bright 
gleams of early soldiership lightened his countenance, 
nothing escaped the vigilance of his eye. Holding no 
militar}^ rank, he was seen day after day mingling with 
the men, studj'ing their tempers, rallying their spirits, 
relating stirring incidents of the Revolutionary War, while 
in the heavy hours of the night he traversed the camp, 
unattended, watching the sentries on their tedious rounds. 
On one occasion he found a wealthy youth of Philadelphia 
sitting on his outer post, his musket by his side. Ap- 
proaching, he reproved him. The youth complained of 
hardship. Hamilton shouldered the musket, and, pacing 
to and fro, remained on guard until relieved. The incident 
was rumored throughout the camp, nor did the lesson 
require repetition. 

The assemblage of any combined force of the insur- 
gents was deterred by various detachments, who seized 
the leaders and brought in numerous prisoners. 

[These decided measures put a stop to the insurrection. The insur- 
gents, left without leaders, and deterred by the presence of an army 
of fifteen thousand men, feared to gather in force; though there were 
sufficient evidences of a spirit of resistance to the laws to require the 
presence of a military force till the district should become pacified.] 

Hamilton arrived at Pittsburg with the judiciary corps 
on the seventeenth of November, having left the army the 
preceding day. 



Abbott] THE PIONEER OF KENTUCKY. 169 

During the latter part of the march ho had heen cod- 
stantly engaged, obtaining intehigence of the insurgents, 
receiving the submissions of those who had not fled, re- 
straining the resentments of the militia which these 
treasons had excited, and establishing the laws in a region 
which now first practically acknowledged the supremacy 
of the general government. . . . 

Nothing could have been more gratifying than the re- 
sult of this expedition, — a great body of misguided rebels 
restored without bloodshed to the dominion of the laws, a 
contemplated severance of the Union defeated, and a strong 
impression made, that in the affections of the people the 
government possessed a safe reliance adequate to its sup- 
port. 

[Thus ended, without bloodshed, an insurrection which at one time 
threatened to disrupt the new-formed Union, or to require severe 
measures for its suppression. Brackenridge remarks, "It has been 
said that because there was no horrid battle there was no necessity for 
so strong an army. But it was the display of so strong an army that 
rendered unnecessary anything but the display of it." The event has 
an importance as the first organized resistance to the authority of the 
United States government, and the first occasion in which an American 
President exerted his authority by directly calling out the militia of 
the States to the support of the laws of the general government.] 



THE PIONEER OF KENTUCKY. 

JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. 

[While the events of the Kevolutionary "War and of the succeeding 
period were taking place on the seaboard of America, the interior 
was the seat of interesting incidents of which some description is de- 
sirable. The colonists of America had dispossessed the original tenants 
of the soil from the Atlantic region, or reduced them to a state of hope- 
II.— H 15 



170 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Abbott 

less submission, with the exception of the Iroquois tribes of New York, 
who were too warlike and well organized to be easily overcome. But 
in the interior, beyond the mountain-barrier of the Alleghanies, the 
savages were yet numerous and their spirit unbroken. The Cherokees 
had become peaceful, but the Northern tribes were vigorous and war- 
like, and viewed with jealous hostility the spread of pioneer invasion 
into their territory. This feeling was encouraged by the art of British 
emissaries, who, during the war, roused the savages to acts of horrible 
cruelty and devastation. 

The first movements of the whites westward had been made by way 
of the great lakes and the Mississippi, along which the French had 
early established trading-stations. The next movement of the French 
was southward from the lakes to the Ohio, while at the same time the 
English were pushing westward through Pennsj'lvania to the same 
region. The conflicts arising from this, with the final triumph of the 
English, we have considered. But the victors had another foe to deal 
with, in the savages of the Ohio teri'itory, and not till they had de- 
feated Pontiac and his warriors, and broken the spirit of the hostile 
tribes, were they secure in their possession of the vast and fertile region 
which they had thus appropriated. 

There is another movement of emigration now to consider, which 
opened a new and extensive territory to European settlei-s, and gave 
rise to historical events of interest and importance. In a preceding 
article it was remarked that the news of the battle of Lexington 
reached the ears of a party of hunters in the interior of Kentucky, 
and that they gave the name of Lexington to the locality of their 
camp. The movement in this direction was instigated and led by the 
celebrated pioneer and hunter Daniel Boone, whose adventurous life 
has so long been a source of interest and enjoyment to readers. The 
story of the discovery, conquest, and settlement of Kentucky belongs 
to the era of the Revolutionary War, and had reached its most interest- 
ing phase at the period when the seaboard colonists were first taking 
arms against British aggression. Its consequences, however, reached 
for into the succeeding period, and a description of it is properly in 
place here. 

Kentucky was first discovered in 1767, by a bold hunter named John 
Finley, who, with some companions, in that year crossed the Alle- 
ghanies and entered this unknown land. It was no easy enterprise. 
There was a mountain-region nearly fifty miles in width to cross, trav- 
ersed by parallel ridges, all rugged, and some almost impassable. Yet 



Abbott] THE PIONEER OF KENTUCKY. 171 

the beautiful and fertile expanse which they beheld from the western 
slope repaid the hardy pioneers for their toil, and for months they wan- 
dered in this new Eden, which was full of game, and pleasantly salu- 
brious in its climate, while unclaimed by those savage tenants whose 
presence filled with peril all other regions of the country. No Indians 
possessed the country. It was the hunting and battle region of North- 
ern, "Western, and Southern tribes, who frequently crossed its soil, yet 
never made it their home. Yet here desperate battles frequently 
took place, and the name of " the dark and bloody ground," which it 
subsequently received, was always appropriate. 

The story told by Finley on his return was eagerly heard by Daniel 
Boone, a noted hunter of North Carolina, whither his parents had 
emigrated from Pennsylvania. In 1769 a party under the leadership 
of Boone crossed the mountains, and entered Kentucky by way of 
Cumberland Gap. His adventures in this region for several years suc- 
ceeding were numerous and exciting. He acquired the reputation of 
a mighty hunter, became dreaded by the Indians, and, though on sev- 
eral occasions taken prisoner, always managed to escape fi-om their 
hands. During this interval the Indian war known as Lord Dun- 
more's War bi'oke out, through the assassination, by white fiends, of 
the family of the renowned Indian chief Logan. The borders of the 
Virginia frontier were terribly raided, and it needed an army of three 
thousand men to subdue the savages. In the final battle, which was 
desperately contested, two hundred and fifteen Virginians and several 
hundred Indian warriors were killed and wounded. The repulsed 
tribes fled in terror, and their whole country was devastated by the 
victors. 

In this campaign Boone took part, and its conclusion was followeu 
by a more rapid inflow of settlers into the region which he had ex- 
plored, and which had become now more safe for white emigrants. 
Under his directions a strong fort was built at Boonsborough, on the 
left bank of the Kentucky River. To this frontier post came a party 
of adventurous settlers, under his leadership. It was a dangerous loca- 
tion. Lurking Indians waited to cut ofi" any settler who ventured too 
far beyond the walls of the fort. At one time a daughter of Boone 
and two other girls, while canoeing on the river, were captured bj'' 
savages. Boone rapidly pursued, and succeeded in surprising the cap- 
tors and rescuing their prisoners. The story of the adventures of these 
pioneers is full of thrilling incidents, and their life was one of hair- 
breadth escapes. Finally Boone was taken prisoner, while out with u 



172 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Abbott 

party making salt at the Salt Lick springs. As the Indians were not 
resisted, the captives were well treated, taken to Detroit, and all ran- 
somed except Boone, whom they would not surrender. They took 
him back with them to Chillicothe, the home of the tribe, and adopted 
him into the family of Blackfish, a distinguished Shawnee chief. The 
ceremony of adoption was a severe and painful one, as part of it con- 
sisted in the plucking out of all the hairs of the head, with the excep- 
tion of the scalp-lock tuft, of three or four inches' diameter. Yet 
the shrewd and politic captive bore all these inflictions with equanim 
ity, and managed to appear perfectly content with his lot. The ex- 
citing events which succeeded we give from Abbott's " Daniel Boone, 
the Pioneer of Kentucky."] 

Colonel Boone, having passed through this transforma- 
tion, with his Indian dress and his painted cheeks, his 
tufted scalp-lock and his whole person embrowned by- 
constant exposure to the open air, could scarcely be dis- 
tinguished from any of his Indian associates. His wary 
captors, however, . . . habitually, but without a remark 
suggestive of any suspicions, adopted precautions to pre- 
vent his escape. So skilful a hunter as Boone could, with 
his rifle and a supply of ammunition, ti-averse the solitary 
expanse around for almost any length of time, living in 
abundance. But deprived of his rifle or of ammunition 
he would soon almost inevitably perish of starvation. The 
Indians were therefore very careful not to allow him to 
accumulate any ammunition, which was so essential to 
sustain him in a journey through the wilderness. 

Though Boone was often allowed to go out alone to 
hunt, they always counted his balls and the charges of 
powder. Thus they could judge whether he had concealed 
any ammunition to aid him, should he attempt to escape. 
He, however, with equal sagacity, cut the balls in halves, 
and used very small charges of powder. Thus he secretly 
laid aside quite a little store of ammunition. 

[During this period the Indians took Boone with them to some salt 



Abbott] THE PIONEER OF KENTUCKY. 173 

springs to aid them in malcing salt. Here they kept him too busy at 
the kettles to give him an opportunity to escape.] 

After an absence of about a fortnight, they returned 
with a good suj^ply of salt to the Little Miami. Hei-e 
Boone was quite alarmed to find that during his absence 
the chiefs had been marshalling a band of four hundred 
and fifty of their bravest warriors to attack Boonsbor- 
ough. In that fort were his wife and children. Its cap- 
ture would probably insure their slaughter. He was 
aware that the fort M-as not sufficiently guarded by its 
present inmates, and that, unapprehensive of impending 
danger, they Avere liable to be taken entirely by surprise. 
Boone was sufficiently acquainted with the Shawanese 
dialect to understand every word they said, while he very 
sagaciously had assumed, from the moment of his captivity, 
that he was entirely ignorant of their language. 

Boone's anxiety was very great. He was compelled to 
assume a smiling face as he attended their war-dances. 
Apparently unmoved, he listened to the details of their 
plans for the surj^rise of the fort. Indeed, to disarm sus- 
picion and to convince them that he had truly become one 
of their number, he co-operated in giving efficiency to 
their hostile designs against all he held most dear in the 
world. 

It had now become a matter of infinite moment that he 
should immediately escape and carry to his friends in the 
fort the tidings of their peril. But the slightest unwary 
movement would have led the suspicious Indians so to re- 
double their vigilance as to render escape uttei'ly impossible. 
So skilfully did he conceal the emotions which agitated 
him, and so successfully did he feign entire contentment 
with his lot, that his captors, all absorbed in the enter- 
prise in which they were engaged, remitted their ordinary 
vigilance. 

II. 15* 



174 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Abbott 

On the morning of the sixteenth of June [1777] Boone 
rose very early to take his usual hunt. With his secreted 
ammunition, and the amount allowed him by the Indians 
for the day, he hoped to be able to save himself from star- 
vation during his flight of five days through the pathless 
wilderness. There was a distance of one hundred and 
sixty miles between Old Chillicothe and Boonshorough. 
The moment his flight should be suspected, four hundred 
and fifty Indian warriors, breathing vengeance, and in per- 
fect preparation for the pursuit, would be on his track. 
His capture would almost certainly result in his death by 
the most cruel tortures ; for the infuriated Indians would 
wreak upon him all their vengeance. 

It is, however, not probable that this silent, pensive man 
allowed these thoughts seriously to disturb his equanimity. 
An instinctive trust in Grod seemed to inspire him. He 
<vas forty-three years of age. In the knowledge of wood- 
craft, and in powers of endurance, no Indian surpassed 
him. Though he would be pursued by sagacious and 
veteran warriors and by young Indian braves, a pack of 
four hundred and fifty savages following, with keener scent 
than that of the bloodhound, one poor victim, yet undis- 
mayed he entered upon the appalling enterprise. The 
history of the world perhaps presents but few feats so 
difficult and yet so successfully performed. . . . 

It was necessary, as soon as Boone got out of sight of 
the village, to fly with the utmost speed, to put as great a 
distance as possible between himself and his pursuers be- 
fore they should suspect his attempt at escaj^e. He sub- 
sequently learned that as soon as the Indians apprehended 
that he had actually fled, there was the most intense com- 
motion in their camp, and immediately a large number of 
their fleetest runners and keenest hunters were put upon 
his trail. He dared not fire a gun. Had he killed any 



Abbott] THE PIONEER OF KENTUCKY. 175 

game he could not have ventured to kindle a fire to cook 
it. He had secretly provided himself with a few cuts of 
dried venison with which he could appease his hunger as 
he pressed forward by day and by night, scarcely allowing 
himself one moment for rest or sleep. His route lay 
through forests and swamps, and across many streams 
swollen by recent rains. 

At length he reached the Ohio Eiver. Its current was 
swift and turbid, rolling in a majestic flood half a mile in 
width, filling the bed of the stream with almost fathomless 
waters from shore to shore. Experienced as Colonel Boone 
was in wood-craft, he was not a skilful swimmer. The 
thought of how he should cross the Ohio had caused him 
much anxiety. Upon reaching its banks he fortunately — 
may we not say providentially ? — found an old canoe which 
had di'ifted among the bushes upon the shore. There was 
a large hole at one end, and it was nearly filled with water. 
He succeeded in baling out the water and plugging up the 
hole, and crossed the river in safety. Then for the first 
time he so far indulged in a feeling of security as to ven- 
ture to shoot a turke}", and, kindling a fire, he feasted 
abundantly upon the rich repast. It was the only meal in 
which he had indulged during his flight of five days. 

[On reaching the fort they looked upon him as a dead man come to 
life. His wife and children, believing him dead, had returned to North 
Carolina. He found the fort in a had condition, and at once brought 
all his energy and experience to work to put it in a proper state of de- 
fence. This done, he determined to strike terror into his Indian foes, 
and on the 1st of August led a party of nineteen men across the Ohio. 
They met and routed a body of thirty savages near the Indian town of 
Paint Creek.] 

Boone sent forward some swift runners as spies, and 
they speedily returned with the report that the Indians in 
a panic had entirely abandoned Paint Creek. Aware that 



176 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Abbott 

the warriors would rush to join the fuur hundi-ed and 
fifty from Old Chillicothe, and that they might cut off his 
retreat, or reach Boonsborough before his return, he im- 
mediately commenced a rapid movement back to the fort. 
Every man would be needed there for an obstinate defence. 
This foray had extended one hundred and fifty miles from 
the fort. It greatly alarmed the Indians. It emboldened 
the hearts of the gai'rison, and gave them intelligence of 
the approach of their foes. After an absence of but seven 
days, Boone with his heroic little band quite triumphantly 
re-entered the fort. 

[The Indian army, four hundred and forty-four in number, arrived 
on August 8, commanded by Captain Duquesne, eleven other French- 
men, and some of their own chiefs, with British and French colors 
flying. The fort was summoned to surrender in the name of his 
Britannic majesty. Boone asked and was granted two days to consider. 
He employed the interval to prepare for an obstinate defence. He 
then returned the answer that " we are determined to defend our fort 
while a man is living."] 

There were but fifty men in the garrison at Boonsbor- 
ough. They were assailed by a body of more than ten to 
one of the bravest Indian warriors, under the command 
of an ofiicer in the British army. The boldest in the foi-t 
felt that their situation was almost desiderate. The ferocity 
of the Indian and the intelligence of the white man were 
combined against them. They knew that the British com- 
mander, however humane he might be, would have no 
power, should the fort be taken by storm, to save them 
from death by the most horrible tortures. 

[It was now declared by Duquesne that his orders were to take them 
captive and not destroy them, and if nine of them would come out and 
treat with him he would withdraw his forces and peacefully retire. 
Boone accepted this proposition.] 

But, better acquainted with the Indian character than 



Abbott] THE PIONEER OF KENTUCKY. 177 

perhaps Duquesne could have been, he selected nine of the 
most athletic and strong of the garrison, and appointed 
the place of meeting in front of the fort, at a distance of 
only one hundred and twenty feet from the walls. The 
riflemen of the garrison were placed in a position to cover 
the spot with their guns, so that in case of treachery the 
Indians would meet with instant punishment, and the 
retreat of the party from the fort would probably be 
secured. 

[Duquesne proposed highly liberal terms. But Boone well knew 
that the Indians would not assent to these terms. During the confer- 
ence the savages had drawn near, and now Bluclcfish, Boone's adopted 
father, professed entire amity, and proposed that they should conclude 
the treaty in what he asserted was the Indian manner, by each white 
man shaking hands with two Indians.] 

This shallow pretence, scai'cely up to the sagacity of 
children, by which Blackfish hoped that two savages grap- 
pling each one of the commissioners would easily be able 
to make prisoners of them, and then by threats of torture 
compel the surrender of the fort, did not in the slightest 
degree deceive Colonel Boone. He was well aware of his 
own strength and of that of the men who accompanied 
him. He also knew that his riflemen occupied concealed 
positions, from which, with unerring aim, they could in- 
stantly punish the savages for any act of treachery. He 
therefore consented to the arrangement. The grasp was 
given. Instantly a terrible scene of confusion ensued. 

The burly savages tried to drag off their victims. The 
surrounding Indians rushed in to their aid, and a deadly 
fire was opened upon them from the fort, which was ener- 
getically responded to by all the armed savages from be- 
hind stumps and trees. One of the fiercest of battles had 
instantly blazed forth. Still these stalwart pioneers were 
not taken by surprise. Aided by the bullets of the fort, 



178 AMERICAN HIS TOE r. [Abbott 

they shook off their assaih^nts, and all succeeded in es- 
caping within the heavy gates, which were immediately 
closed behind them. One only of their number, Boone's 
brother, was wounded. This escape seems almost mirac- 
ulous. But the majoi'ity of the Indians in intelligence 
were mei'e children ; sometimes very cunning, but often 
with the grossest stupidit}^ mingled with their strategy. 

Duquesne and Blackfish, the associated leaders, now 
commenced the siege of the fort with all their energies. 
Dividing their forces into two parties, they kept up an 
incessant fire upon the garrison for nine days and nine 
nights. It was one of the most heroic of those bloody 
struggles between civilization and barbarism w^hich have 
rendered the plains of Kentucky memorable. 

The savages were very careful not to expose themselves 
to the rifles of the besieged. They were stationed behind 
rocks and trees and stumps, so that it was seldom that the 
garrison could catch even a glimpse of the foes who were 
assailing them. It was necessary for those within the fort 
to be Bj)aring of their ammunition. They seldom fired 
unless they could take deliberate aim, and then the bullet 
was almost always sure to reach its mark. Colonel Boone, 
in describing this attempt of the Indians to capture the 
commissioners by stratagem, and the storm of war which 
followed, writes : 

" They immediately grappled us, but, although sur- 
rounded by hundreds of savages, we extricated ourselves 
from them and escaped all safe into the garrison except 
one, who was wounded, through a heavy fire from their 
army. The}' immediately attacked us on every side, and 
a constant heavy fire ensued between us, day and night, 
for the space of nine days. In this time the enemy began 
to undermine our fort, which was situated about sixty 
yards from the Kentucky Eiver. Thej- began at the 



Abbott] THE PIONEER OF KENTUCKY. 179 

water-mark and jiroceeded in the bank some distance, 
which we understood by their making the water muddy 
with the clay. We immediately proceeded to disappoint 
their design by cutting a trench across their subterranean 
passage. The enemy, discovering our countermine by the 
clay we threw out of the fort, desisted from that strata- 
gem. Experience now fully convincing them that neither 
their power nor their jjolicy could eifect their purpose, on 
the twentieth of August they raised the siege and departed. 

"During this siege, which threatened death in every 
foi'm, we had two men killed and four wounded, besides a 
number of cattle. We killed of the enemy thirtj'-seven, 
and wounded a great number. After they were gone we 
picked up one hundred and twenty-five pounds' weight of 
bullets, besides what stuck in the logs of our fort, which 
certainly is a great proof of their industry." 

It is said that during this siege one of the negroes, proba- 
bly a slave, deserted from the fort with one of their best 
rifles, and joined the Indians. Concealing himself in a 
tree, where unseen he could take deliberate aim, he became 
one of the most successful of the assailants. But the eagle 
eye of Boone detected him, and though, as was afterwards 
ascertained by actual measurement, the tree was five hun- 
dred and twenty-five feet distant from the fort, Boone took 
deliberate aim, fired, and the man was seen to drop heavily 
from his covert to the ground. The bullet from Boone's 
rifle had pierced his brain. 

At one time the Indians had succeeded in setting fire to 
the fort, by throwing flaming combustibles upon it, attached 
to their arrows. One of the young men extinguished the 
flames, exposing himself to the concentrated and deadly 
fire of the assailants in doing so. Though the bullets fell 
like hailstones around him, the brave fellow escaped un- 
scathed. 



180 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Steward 

[The Indians never again assailed the fort. From that time forward 
the settlements in Kentucky rapidly increased, the Kevolutionary War 
driving many settlers "West. There were other troubles with the sav- 
ages, but the dominion of the white man in the trans-AUeghany region 
was assured, and the aborigines had lost their hold upon the land of 
their forefathei-s.] 



WAR WITH THE WESTERN INDIANS. 

JAMES STEWARD. 

[The settlement of the valley of the Ohio, and of the adjacent re- 
gions north and south, steadily continued in the period succeeding the 
Eevolution, the hardy frontiersmen pushing back the aborigines step 
by step, and daring all the terrors of savage reprisal in their unflinch- 
ing advance. The assault on the fort at Boonsborough was succeeded 
by other actions, in several of which the Indians were victorious. On 
August 18, 1782, the whites suffered a bloody repulse at a point on the 
Licking Eiver near the Blue Licks. Boone took part in this battle. 
Soon after, General Clark defeated the victorious- savages, and burned 
their towns. From this time till 1790 the Indians continued hostile, 
and committed such ravages that General Harmer was sent, in the 
latter year, to punish them. The result was disastrous. Two actions 
took place, in both of which he was defeated, with severe loss in killed 
and wounded. Of the succeeding events we select a description from 
Steward's "History of America," more generally known, from an 
edition of it having been published by Henry Trumbull, as Trumbull's 
" History of the Indian Wars."] 

In the fall of 1791, General St. Clair took command of 
the "Western army, and marched against the Indians, who 
had assembled in great force on the Miami Eiver. He met 
with a total defeat. The particulars of the fight, which 
was very sanguinary, will be given in his own words, 
which is taken from his letter to the Secretary of War: 

" Yesterday, the remains of the army under my com- 
mand got back to this place [Fort Washington] ; and I 



Steward] WAR WITH THE WESTERN INDIANS. 181 

have now the painful task to give an account of as warm 
and as unfortunate an action as almost any that has been 
fought, as every corps was engaged and worsted, except 
the First Eegiment ; this had been detached upon a service 
that I had the honor to inform you of in my last despatch, 
and had not joined me. 

" On the 3d instant, the army had reached a creek about 
twelve yards wide, running to the southward of west, 
which I believed to have been the river St. JVIaiy, that 
empties into the Miami of the lake ; arrived at the village 
about four o'clock in the afternoon, having marched near 
nine miles, and were immediately encamped upon a verj- 
commanding piece of gi'ound, in two lines, having the 
above-mentioned creek in front. The right wing, com- 
posed of Butler, Clark, and Patterson's battalions, com- 
manded by Major-General Butler, formed the first line; 
and the left wing, consisting of Bedinger and Gaither's 
battalions, and the Second Eegiment, commanded by Colo- 
nel Drake, formed the second line; with an interval be- 
tween them of about seventy yards, which was all the 
ground would allow. 

" The right flank was pretty well secured by the creek, 
a steep bank, and Faulkener's corps. Some of the cavalry, 
and their pickets, covered the left flank. The militia were 
sent over the creek, and advanced about a quarter of a 
mile, and encamped in the same order. 

" There were a few Indians who appeared on the oppo- 
site side of the creek, but fled with the utmost precipita- 
tion on the advance of the militia. At this place, which I 
judged to be about fifteen miles from the Miami village, I 
had determined to throw up a slight work, the plan of 
which was concerted that evening with Major Ferguson, 
wherein to have deposited the men's knapsacks, and ever}-- 
thing else that was not of absolute necessity, and to have 
II. 16 



182 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Steward 

moved on to attack the enemy as soon as the First Eegi- 
ment came up ; but they did not permit me to execute 
either, for on the 4th, about half an hour before sunrise, 
and when the men had just been dismissed from parade 
(for it was a constant practice to have them all under 
arms a considerable time before daylight), an attack wa? 
made upon the militia, who gave way in a yqyj little time, 
and rushed into camp through Major Butler's battalion, 
which, together with part of Clark's, they threw into 
considerable disorder, and which, notwithstanding the ex- 
ertions of both these officers, was never altogether reme- 
died. The Indians followed close at their heels; the fire, 
however, of the front line checked them, but almost in- 
stantaneously a very heavy attack began upon that line, 
and in a few minutes it was extended to the second like- 
wise. The great weight of it was directed against the 
centre of each, where the artillery was placed, and from 
which the men were repeatedly driven with great slaughter. 
Finding no great effect from the fire, and a confusion be- 
ginning to spread from the great number of the men who 
were falling in all quarters, it became necessaiy to try 
what could be done with the bayonet. 

" Lieutenant Drake was accordingly ordered to chai'ge 
with a part of the second line, and to turn the left flank 
of the enemy. This was executed with great spirit, and 
at first promised much success. The Indians instantly 
gave way, and were driven back three or four hundred 
yards ; but, for want of a sufficient number of riflemen to 
jiursue this advantage, they soon returned, and the troops 
were obliged to give back in their turn. At this moment 
they had entered our camp by the left flank, having pur- 
sued the troops that were posted there. 

" Another charge was made here by the Second Regi- 
ment, Butler and Clark's battalions, with equal effect, and 



Steward] WAR WITH THE WESTERN INDIANS. 183 

it was repeated several times, and always with success ; 
but in all of them many men were lost, and particularly 
the officers, which, among raw troops, was a loss alto- 
gether irremediable. In that I just spoke of, made by 
the Second Eegiment and Butler's battalion, Major Butler 
was dangerously wounded, and every officer of the Second 
Regiment fell, except three, one of which. Captain Grea- 
ton, was shot through the body. Our artillery being now 
silenced, and all the officers killed, except Captain Ford, 
who was badly wounded, more than half of the army 
fallen, being cut off from the road, it became necessary to 
attempt the regaining it and to make a retreat if possible. 
To this purpose the remains of the army was formed, as 
well as circumstances would admit, towards the right of 
the encampment, from which, by the way of the second 
line, another charge was made upon the enemy, as if with 
the design to turn the right flank, but it was in fact to 
gain the road. This was eff'ected, and as soon as it was 
opened the militia entered it, followed by the troops, Major 
Clark with his battalion covering the rear. 

" The retreat in these circumstances was, as you may 
be sure, a pi-eeipitate one. It was, in fact, a flight. The 
camp and artilleiy were abandoned ; but that was un- 
avoidable, as not a horse was left alive to have drawn it 
off, had it otherwise been practicable. But the most dis- 
graceful part of the business is that the greatest part of 
the men threw away their arms and accoutrements, even 
after the pursuit, which continued about four miles, had 
ceased. 

" I found the road strewed with them for man}' miles, 
but was not able to remed}- it, for, having had all my 
horses killed, and being mounted upon one that could not 
be pricked out of a walk, I could not get forward myself; 
and the orders I sent forward, either to halt the front or 



184 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Steward 

prevent the men from parting with their arms, were un- 
attended to. 

" The rout continued quite to Fort Jefferson, twenty- 
nine miles, which was reached a little after sunset. The 
action began half an hour before sunrise, and the retreat 
was attempted at half-past nine o'clock." . . . 

The defeat of General St. Clair took place within three 
miles of the Miami village. The loss on this occasion was 
about six hundred killed and wounded (said to be nearly- 
equal to Braddock's defeat), with seven pieces of artillery 
and all the stores. General St. Clair had about eleven hun- 
dred men, had reason to exj^ect an attack, and kept his 
men under arms all night, drawn up in a square. The 
attack commenced about dawn of day on all the lines, but 
principally on the rear line, which was composed of the 
militia. The Indians gave one fire and rushed on, toma- 
hawk in hand. The militia gave way to the centi-e, and 
before the artillery could be brought into action the ma- 
trosses were all killed, and it fell into the hands of the 
enemy. It was retaken, but was useless for want of men to 
manage the pieces. The action was continued obstinately 
until nine o'clock, when the troops gave way. St. Clair 
rallied his men, and brought them off in tolerable order, 
with most of the wounded, to Fort Jefferson, thirty miles 
in the rear of the action. The enemy pursued five miles. 

Few oflScers of distinction escaped, except General St. 
Clair, who had many narrow escapes. Eight balls passed 
through his clothes. The attack was conducted with as- 
tonishing intrepidity on the part of the Indians. In a 
few moments the general's tent was surrounded. How- 
ever, he was rescued by a party of regular soldiers, who 
repelled the enemy with fixed bayonets. . . . 

[The Indians in this disastrous affair claim to have been four 



Steward] WAR WITH THE WESTERN INDIANS. 185 

thousand strong, and to have lost but fifty-sis warriors killed. They 
took no prisoners, but treated the wounded on the field with great 
inhumanity.] 

A few -weeks after the defeat of the troops under Gen 
eral St. Clair, General Scott despatched from the men 
under his command two spies to reconnoitre the enemy, 
who, when they arrived at the distance of a few miles 
from the fatal spot where the bloody action was fought, 
discovered a large party of Indians, divei'ting and enjoying 
themselves with the plunder they had taken, riding the 
bullocks, etc., and appeared to be mostly drunk. The 
men returned and communicated this most important in- 
formation to General Scott, who immediately divided his 
troops into three divisions and advanced on the enemy 
by surprise. The contest was short, but victorious on the 
part of the American troops. Two hundred of the enemy 
were killed on the spot, all the cannon and stores in their 
possession retaken, and the remainder of the savage body 
put to flight. General Scott, losing but six men, returned 
to head-quarters in triumph, with most of the cattle, 
stores, etc. 

General Scott gave the following affecting account of 
the appearance of the field on which the bloody action 
between the American trooj^s under General St. Clair and 
the savages was fought : " The place had a very melan- 
choly appearance. Nearly in the space of three hundred 
and fifty yards lay three hundred skull-bones, which were 
buried by my men while on the ground; from thence, 
about five miles on, the road through the woods was 
strewed with skeletons, muskets, etc." 

[Their great success in the action described roused the Indians to 
continued acts of outrage and massacre, and in time they grew so bold 
and daring as to render all the frontier settlements insecure. It be- 
came necessary either to abandon the region or to subdue the savages- 
II. 16* 



186 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Steward 

The government, three years after the defeat of St. Clair, took meas- 
ures to effect the latter purpose.] 

After the defeat of two armies, and the great suffering 
of the inhabitants, by the Indians, as related in the pi'e- 
ceding chapter, our government came to the determination 
to adopt more effective measures for the protection of 
the "Western frontiers. General Anthony Wayne was ap- 
pointed to the command of the forces raised for that pur- 
pose, and ordered to proceed against the hostile Indians, 
who had assembled in great force on the river Miamis. 
He gained a decisive victory over them, which put an end 
to their depredations for several years. The particulars 
of the battle are related in the following official despatch 
from him to the Secretary of War : 

" It is with infinite pleasure that I announce to you the 
brilliant success of the Federal army under my command, 
in a general action with the combined force of the hostile 
Indians and a considerable number of the volunteers and 
mihtia of Detroit, on the 20th of August, 1794, on the 
banks of the Miamis, in the vicinity of the British post 
and garrison at the foot of the rapids. 

" The army advanced to Eoach de Bout on the 15th, 
aftd on the 19th we w^ere employed in making a temporary 
post for the reception of our stores and baggage, and in 
reconnoitring the position of the enemj^, who were en- 
camped behind a thick bushy wood and the British fort. 

" At eight o'clock on the morning of the 20th the army 
again advanced in columns, agreeably to the standing order 
of the march : the legion on the right, its right flank cov- 
ered by the Miamis ; one brigade of mounted volunteers 
on the left, under Brigadier-General Todd, and the other 
in the rear, under Brigadier-General Barbee. A select 
battalion of mounted volunteers moved in front of the 
legion, commanded by Major Price, who was directed to 



Steward] WAR WITH THE WESTERN INDIANS. 187 

keep sufficiently advanced, and to give timely notice for 
the troops to form in case of action, it being yet undeter- 
mined whetlier the Indians would decide for peace or war. 

" After advancing about five miles. Major Price's corps 
received so severe a fire from the enemy, who were secreted 
in the woods and high grass, as to compel them to retreat. 

" The legion was immediately formed in two lines, prin- 
cipally in a close, thick wood, which extended for miles on 
our left, and for a very considerable distance in front, the 
ground being covered with old fallen timber, probably oc- 
casioned by a tornado, which rendered it impracticable for 
the cavalry to act with efi'eet, and afforded the enemy the 
most favorable covert for their mode of warfare. The sav- 
ages were formed in three lines, within supporting distance 
of each other, and extending for near two miles at right 
angles with the river. I soon discovered, from the weight 
of the fire and extent of their lines, that the enemy were 
in full force in front, in possession of their favorite ground, 
and endeavoring to turn our left flank. I therefore gave 
orders for the second line to advance to sujjport the first, 
and directed Major-Geueral Scott to gain and turn the 
right flank of the savages, with the whole of the mounted 
volunteers, by a circuitous route. At the same time I 
ordered the front line to advance and charge with trailed 
arms, and rouse the Indians from their covert at the point 
of the bayonet, and when up to deliver a close and well- 
directed fire on their backs, followed by a brisk charge, so 
as not to give them time to load again or to form their 
lines. I also ordered Captain M. Campbell, who com- 
manded the legionary cavalry, to turn the left flank of 
the enemy next the river, which afforded a favorable field 
for that corps to act in. All these orders were obeyed 
with spirit and promptitude ; but such was the impetu- 
osity of the charge by the first line of infantry that the 



188 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Steward 

Indians and Canadian militia and volunteers were driven 
from all their coverts in so short a time that, although 
every possible exertion was used by the officers of the 
second line of the legion, and by Generals Scott, Wood, 
and Barbee of the mounted volunteers, to gain their 
proper positions, but part of each could get up in season 
to participate in the action, the enemy being driven in the 
course of one hour more than two miles through the thick 
woods already mentioned, by less than one-half their 
number. 

" From every account, the enemy amounted to two thou- 
sand combatants. The troops actually engaged against 
them were short of nine hundred. This horde of savages, 
with their allies, abandoned themselves to flight and dis- 
persed with terror and dismay, leaving our victorious 
army in full and quiet possession of the field of battle, 
which terminated under the influence of the guns of the 
British garrison. . . . 

" The loss of the enemy was more than double that 
of the Federal army. The woods were strewed for a con- 
siderable distance with dead bodies of Indians and their 
white auxiliaries, the latter armed with British muskets 
and bayonets. We remained three days and nights on 
the banks of the Miamis in front of the field of battle, 
during which time all the houses and cornfields were con- 
sumed and destroyed for a considerable distance above and 
below the garrison, among which were the houses, stores, 
and property of Colonel M'Kee, the British Indian agent, 
and principal stimulator of the war now existing between 
the United States and the savages. 

" The army returned to head-quarters on the 27th, by 
easy marches, laying waste the villages and cornfields for 
about fifty miles on each side of the Miamis. It is not 
improbable that the enemy may make one desperate action 



McMaster] the purchase OF LOUISIANA. 189 

against the army, as it is said a reinforcemeut was liourly 
expected at Fort Miamis from Niagara, as well as numer- 
ous tribes of Indians living on the margins and islands of 
the lakes. This is an event rather to be wished for than 
dreaded whilst the army remains in force ; their numbers 
will only tend to confuse the savages, and the victory will 
be the more complete and decisive, and which may event- 
ually insure a permanent and happy peace. Total killed, 
thirty-eight ; wounded, one hundred and one. 

[Wayne's victory effectually quieted the Indians of that region. 
Sixteen years elapsed before another outbreak took place, that of the 
Indians of the Wabash, under the leadership of the celebrated Tecum- 
seh. This was effectually silenced by the defeat of the savages by the 
army under General Harrison, at the battle of Tippecanoe, on Novem- 
ber 6, 1811, in which the Indians were routed with great slaughter. 
The Indian leader, however, was not present at this battle, and sur- 
vived to give trouble to the Americans in the war which soon after 
broke out with Great Britain.] 



THE PURCHASE OF LOUISIANA. 

JOHN BACH McMASTER. 

[Before considering the subject indicated in the title of this article, 
a brief review of the political events which followed the adoption of 
the Constitution is advisable. The reign of party spirit in the United 
States began with the adoption of this instrument by the Convention. 
Between this date and that of its ratification by the States the Federal 
and Anti-Federal parties struggled for supremacy, the former being in 
favor of a strong central government, the latter favoring the practical 
independence of the States. The ratification of the Constitution by 
the States ended this contest. The prominent Anti-Federalists an- 
nounced their intention of supporting the Constitution, and for several 
years there was practically but one party in the country. George 



190 AMERICAN HISTORY. [MoMaster 

Washington was the first President elected, the electoral vote in his 
favor heing unanimous. John Adams was chosen for Vice-President. 
Until about 1824-28, electors were generally chosen by the State legis- 
latures, not by the direct vote of the people, as since that period. The 
two persons receiving the highest electoral vote became respectively 
President and Vice-President. 

Opposition to the Federal party began in 1790, when Hamilton 
broached a project for the assumption of State debts by the central 
government. It grew stronger in 1791, when he proposed to establish 
a national bank. Jefferson, who had been the first Secretary of State, 
was now found at the head of a party in open opposition to the ad- 
ministration. This party, though adopting the name of Republicans, 
advocated the principles of the older Anti-Federalists, claiming that 
there was a scheme to subvert the State governments and establish 
a strong central government, and denouncing the Hamilton party as 
monarchists. Democratic clubs soon after arose, instigated by, and 
imitating many of the follies of, the Jacobin revolutionists of France. 
They had the one good effect of introducing political discussion among 
the masses of the people, and in a few years the Democrats coalesced 
with the Eepublicans as a single national party. The Federalists, 
however, continued in the majority, and in 1792 Washington and 
Adams were again elected President and Vice-President. 

During this second term the power of the Republican party rapidly 
increased. The acts of the administration were fiercely attacked, and 
when, at the approach of a new election, Washington announced his 
intention to retire, a hot political contest arose, which nearly resulted 
in a Republican victory. Of the electoral votes Adams received 
seventy-one, and Jefferson sixty-eight, the latter receiving all but two 
of the Southern votes. The new administration was therefore organ- 
ized with Adams for President and Jefferson for Vice-President. 

The financial condition of the country had now greatly improved. 
A sound credit was established, funds were provided for the payment 
of the national debt, and treaties were concluded with the Indians and 
with several of the European powers, while a very rapid increase in 
population and in agricultural and commercial wealth had taken place. 
During the summer of 1800 the seat of government was removed from 
Philadelphia to Washington, as at that time the centre of the count^J^ 
The Republican party continued to develop in strength, mainly on ac- 
count of the passage of laws which tended to strengthen the central 
government, and which were unfavorably received by the people. 



McMaster] the PVRCHASE OF LOIISIANA. 191 

The " Alien Law." which empowered the President to order from the 
country any foreigner whose presence he deemed dangerous to the 
public safety, and the " Sedition Law," which visited with fine and 
imprisonment "any false, scandalous, or malicious writing against the 
government of the United States, or either House of Congress, or the 
President," were deemed tyrannical measures; while the effort to pass 
an act establishing a standing army added to the unpopularity of the 
Federalists. In the election of 1800, therefore, the Kepublicans were 
victorious. Jefferson became President, and Aaron Burr, who had 
prominent control of the Democratic party, was made Vice-President. 
Jefferson and Burr, indeed, received an equal number of votes, and 
Congress had to decide between them. With this election the power 
of the Federal party ceased, and for many years thereafter the "State 
Eights" Democratic-Kepublican party continued in the supremacy. 
The effort to strengthen the central government unduly at the expense 
of the power of the States had failed, and the Federalists, as a distinct 
party, gradually vanished from existence. 

With the accession of this new partj' to power the principal govern- 
mental offices were placed in the hands of the Kepublicans, the system 
of internal duties was abolished, and several unpopular laws were re- 
pealed. In 1802 Ohio was admitted as a State, and in the succeeding 
year the Territory of Louisiana was purchased from France. This 
important purchase added so enormously to the domain of the United 
States as to demand here a more extended notice. 

The United States was at that period surrounded by alien territory. 
On the north, Canada remained in the hands of the English. On 
the south, Florida, which had been ceded to England in 17G3, cap- 
tured in part by the Spanish allies of the United States in 1781, 
and re-ceded to Spain in 1783, bounded the States from the Atlantic 
to the Mississippi. Louisiana, embracing the whole Mississippi Val- 
ley, and extending indefinitely westward, remained French territory 
after the close of the French and Indian War. In 1762 it was secretly 
transferred to Spain, though open possession was not given till 1769. 
Meanwhile, in 1763, Great Britain obtained by treaty that portion 
lying east of the Mississippi, from its source to the river Iberville. 
In 1783 this territory was ceded to the United States by the treaty of 
peace with England. All the territory west of the Mississippi, and 
on the east from the 31st parallel of latitude to the Gulf, remained in 
the hands of Spain. 

No sooner had American settlements extended to the region of the 



192 AMERICAN HISTORY. [McMaster 

Mississippi and its eastern affluents than the importance of having 
free use of this river as a channel of transportation to the sea was 
strongly felt. This sentiment intensified as the settlements increased 
and the Spanish authorities manifested a hostile policy. That a for- 
eign power should restrict the use of the mouth of such a river as the 
Mississippi was intolerable, and had it not been ceded peacefully it 
must eventually have been taken by force. From JMcMaster's admira- 
ble " History of the People of the United States" we select an account 
of the acquisition of this vast and valuable territory.] 

On October first, 1800, by the secret treaty of San Ilde- 
fonso, Spain gave back to France that province of Louisi- 
ana which, in 1762, France had given to her. It was long 
before the existence of this treaty was known ; but the 
moment it was known Jefferson saw most clearly that 
trouble with France was not at an end. There was, he 
said, one spot on the face of the earth so important to the 
United States that whoever held it was, for that very 
reason, naturally and forever our enemy; and that spot was 
New Orleans. He could not, therefore, see it transferred 
to France but with deep regret. The day she took pos- 
session of the city the ancient friendship between her and 
the United States ended ; alHance with Great Britain be- 
came necessary, and the sentence that was to keep France 
below low-water mark became fixed. This day seemed 
near at hand, for in November, 1802, word came that an 
expedition was making all haste to cross the ocean and 
occupy Louisiana. 

Meanwhile, the Spanish intendant of the province put 
forth a proclamation, closed the navigation of the Missis- 
sippi to American citizens, forbade all trade, and took 
away the right of deposit at New Orleans. Protected by 
this right, the inhabitants of Kentucky and Ohio had for 
seven years past been floating tobacco and flour, bacon 
and hams, down the Mississippi in rude arks, and deposit- 



McMaster] the purchase OF LOUISIANA. 193 

ing them in the warehouses of Xew Orleans, there to 
await the arrival of the sloops and scows to carrj- them 
to the West Indies, or to points along the Atlantic coast. 
The intendant could, at any time, shift the place of de- 
posit ; but, by the terms of the treaty of 1795, some con- 
venient port near the mouth of the river must always be 
023en for the deposit of goods and produce. In this re- 
spect, therefore, the treaty had been violated ; for, when 
New Orleans was shut, no other town was opened. 

[The state of affairs here indicated was earnestly debated in Con- 
gress, and a resolution passed which, while not accusing Spain, declared 
that the rights of navigation and deposit should be maintained.] 

Jefferson was now free to act without fear of meddling 
from the House, and he sjjeedily did so. The Senate, in a 
special message, was informed that he had not been idle; 
that such measures had been promptly taken as seemed 
likely to bring a friendly settlement about, and that the 
purpose of these measures was the buying of so much ter- 
ritory on the east bank of the river as would put at rest 
forever the vexed question of the use of its mouth. His 
confidence in the ability of the minister at the court of 
France to accomplish this was unlimited. Yet he could 
not but believe that the end would be hastened by sending 
to his aid a man fresh from the United States and bearing 
with him a just and lively sense of the feeling late events 
had aroused in the great mass of the people. He there- 
fore nominated James Monroe to be minister extraordinary 
and plenipotentiaiy to France, and minister extrtiordinary 
and plenipotentiary to Sj^ain ; for, Louisiana not having 
been actually transferred to France, it seemed proper that 
his CathoHe majesty should also be consulted. The Senate 
confirmed the nomination, and gave Monroe full power, in 
conjunction with Livingston in France and Pinckney in 
II. — I n . 17 



194 AMERICAN HISTORY. [McMaster 

Spain, to frame any treaty or convention that extended 
and secured the rights of the United States on the Mis- 
tsissippi, and set apart two millions of dollars to be used, 
it was understood, for the purchase of the island of New 
Orleans. 

[The Federalists in Congress strongly opposed these measures, and 
oflfered resolutions tending towards war with Spain. They declared 
that the free navigation of the river was a clear right of the United 
States, and that interference with it by Spain was a hostile aggression. 
They demanded that the President should take possession of some fit 
place of deposit, and that, if necessary, fifty thousand militia should be 
called out, and five millions of dollars appropriated for this purpose. 
These resolutions were opposed and voted down by the Kepublican 
party, but in their place a bill was passed authorizing the President to 
call out a provisional army of eighty thousand militia, and to spend 
twenty-five thousand dollars in building arsenals in the West.] 

For the troops the President had no need. The Eepub- 
licans wei-e right, and, in a few months, far more was 
secured by negotiation than the Federalists had ever ex- 
pected to obtain by violence and the use of arms. For 
months past Livingston had been trying to persuade the 
First Consul to sell a part of Louisiana to the United 
States. He begged the Spanish minister to hinder the 
transfer of the district to France ; for, till the transfer 
was made, the colonists Napoleon was bent on sending to 
America were not likely to sail. Again and again he de- 
manded a speedy settlement of the debt due to American 
merchants, and urged the benefits France would derive by 
parting with a piece of her ancient soil. Not a word came 
in reply. The man through whose hands his notes all 
passed was Talleyrand, who still held under Napoleon the 
same place he once held under the five Directors. Change 
of master was the only change that able and unprincipled 
minister had undergone. He was still the treacherous, 



McMaster] the purchase OF LOUISIANA. 195 

grasping, ambitious knave of 1797. To Livingston bo 
was all graciousness, but not a word of the American 
minister's notes reached the First Consul that Talleyrand 
did not approve. To sell Louisiana was not the wish of 
Talleyrand. He would see France once more in possession 
of her old domain, firmly planted on American soil, con- 
trolling the Mississippi, setting bounds to the United States, 
threatening Canada, and, it might be in the near future, 
planting the tricolor on the walls of that great fortress 
from which England had pulled down the lilies of France. 
It is idle to speculate what might have been the destiny 
of our country had Louisiana become permanently a pos- 
session of France. The thing was not to be. Convinced 
that Talleyrand was trick}-, Livingston passed him by and 
wrote directly to the man whose will was the will of 
France. Citizen First Consul was asked if the French 
did not intend to pay their just debts. He was reminded 
that the Board of Accounts had liquidated and given cer- 
tificates for about one-quarter of the debt, that on these 
certificates the American merchants had raised small sums 
to enable them to live, and that, on a sudden, while the 
Board went on liquidating, the certificates ceased to be 
given. He was told of the feeling aroused in the United 
States by the change about to take place in the ownership 
of Louisiana. He was asked to sell so much of the terri- 
tory as lay south of latitude thirty-one, from the Missis- 
sippi to the Perdido, and so much as, west of the Missis- 
sippi, lay north of the Arkansas Eiver. Thus would the 
United States secure the mouths of the rivers flowing 
from her territory to the Mexican gulf Thus would 
France have a barrier placed between her and the posses- 
sions of her most ancient foe. "Was not this to be con- 
sidered ? The cupidity of Britain kneAV no bounds. The 
Cape, Malta, Egy2")t, had already awakened her avarice. 



196 AMERICAN HISTORY. [McM aster 

Should she turn her arms westward, a struggle for Louisi- 
ana would at once begin. Of what use could the province 
be to France? To enable her to command the gulf, supply 
her islands, and give an outlet to her surplus population. 
To scatter population over a boundless region was, there- 
fore, bad policy: the true policy was to concentrate and 
keep it near the sea. The country south of the Arkansas 
could well maintain a colony of fifteen millions of souls. 
Could France keep more in subjection? Ought not far- 
away colonies to be moderate in size ? Would rich and 
prosperous settlements up the Missouri Eiver always be 
content to pay allegiance to the distant ruler of France ? 

These memorials brought a speedy reply. Livingston 
was assured that the First Consul would see to it that the 
debts were paid, and would send a minister to the United 
States with full power to act. The minister was to have 
been General Bernadotte; but on this mission he was 
destined never to depart. In March the quarrel with 
England concerning Malta grew serious. " I must," said 
Napoleon to Lord Whitworth, in the presence of the as- 
sembled ministers of Europe, " I must either have Malta 
or war." New combinations were forming against him in 
Europe ; all England was loudly demanding that Louisiana 
should be attacked, and, lest it should be taken from him, 
he determined to sell it to the United States. 

April eleventh Talleyrand asked Livingston for an offer 
for Louisiana entire. The island of New Orleans and 
West Florida, he was told, were wanted, and no more. 
This much sold, what remained would, he asserted, be of 
small value. He would therefore like to know what price 
the United States would give for all. Livingston thought 
twenty millions of francs, and Talleyrand departed, pro- 
testing the sum was far too small. 

The next day Monroe reached Paris, and the day after 



McMaster] the purchase OF LOUISIANA. 197 

Earbe-Marbois, Minister of tbe Treasuiy, called. Marbois 
astonished Livingston by declaring that one hundred mil- 
lions of francs and the payment of tbe debts due American 
citizens was the price of Louisiana. This would bring the 
cost to one hundred and twenty-five millions, for at twenty- 
five millions of francs Livingston estimated the debts. He 
pronounced the price exorbitant ; Marbois admitted that it 
was, and asked to take back to St. Cloud an offer of eighty 
millions of francs, including twenty millions for the debts. 
Some higghng now took place; but on these terms the 
purchase was effected by the three instruments dated 
April thirtieth, 1803. 

[These were, a treaty of cession, an instrument arranging the mode 
of payment, and one treating of the debts, their character, and the 
method of their settlement.] 

Jefferson was greatly puzzled when these three docu- 
ments reached his hand. He had offered to buy an island 
for a dock-yard and a place of deposit ; he was offered a 
magnificent domain. He had been authorized to expend 
two millions of dollars ; the sum demanded was fifteen. As 
a strict constructionist he could not, and for a while he did 
not, consider the purchase of foreign territory as a con- 
stitutional act. But when he thought of the evils that 
would follow if Louisiana remained with France, and of 
the blessings that would follow if Louisiana came to the 
United States, his common sense got the better of his 
narrow political scruples, and he soon found a way of 
escape. He would accept the treaty, summon Congress, 
urge the House and Senate to perfect the purchase, and 
trust to the Constitution being amended so as to make the 
purchase legal. 

[A sharp debate in Congress ensued, the old Federal party strongly 
opposing tbe consummation of the purchase. The enormous increase 
II. 17* 



198 AMERICAN HISTORY. [McMasteb 

the purchase would make in the national debt became a favorite theme, 
and every effort was made by writers and printers to show the people 
what a stupendous sum fifteen millions of dollars was.] 

Fifteen millions of dollars ! they would exclaim. The 
sale of a wilderness has not usually commanded a price so 
high. Ferdinand Gorges received but twelve hundred and 
fifty pounds sterling for the province of Maine. WilHam 
Penn gave for the wilderness that now beai's his name 
but a trifle over five thousand pounds. Fifteen millions 
of dollars ! A breath will sufiice to pronounce the words. 
A few strokes of the pen will express the sum on paper. 
But not one man in a thousand has any conception of the 
magnitude of the amount. Weigh it, and there will be 
four hundred and thirty-three tons of solid silver. Load 
it into wagons, and there will be eight hundred and sixty- 
six of them. Place the wagons in a line, giving two rods 
to each, and they will cover a distance of five and one- 
third miles. Hire a laborer to shovel it into the carts, 
and, though he load sixteen each day, he will not finish 
the work in two months. Stack it up dollar on dollar, 
and, supposing nine to make an inch, the pile will be more 
than three miles high. . . . All the gold and all the silver 
coin in the United States would, if collected, fall vastly 
short of such a sum. We must, therefore, create a stock, 
and for fifteen years to come pay two thousand four hun- 
dred and sixty-five dollars interest each day. Invest the 
principal as a school fund, and the interest will support, 
forever, eighteen hundred free schools, allowing fifty schol- 
ars and five hundred dollars to each school. For whose 
benefit is the purchase made? The South and West. Will 
they pay a share of the debt ? No, for the tax on whiskey 
has been remo'^ed. 

Statistics, most happily, were of no avail. The mass 
of the people pronounced the purchase a bargain. The 




HORSESHOE CAN OX. 



McMaster] the purchase OF LOUISIANA. 199 

Senate, on October nineteenth, ratified the treaty and con- 
ventions ; the ratification of Napoleon was ali-eady in the 
hands of the Frencli charge, and on October twenty-first 
Jefferson informed Congress that ratifications had that day 
been exchanged. On November tenth the act creating 
the eleven millions two hundred and fifty thousand dollars 
of stock called for by the first convention was passed. 
On December twentieth, 1803, Louisiana was peaceably 
taken possession of by the United States. 

The province of Louisiana, as the region came to be 
called, was to the Americans of that day an unknown 
land. Not a boundary was defined. Not a scrap of trust- 
worthy information concerning the region was to be ob- 
tained. Meagre accounts of what travellers had seen on 
the Missouri, of what hunters and trappers knew of the 
upper Mississi23pi, of what the Indians said were the feat- 
ures of the great plains that stretched away toward the 
setting sun, had indeed reached the ofiicials, and out of 
these was constructed the most remarkable document any 
President has ever transmitted to Congress. It told of a 
tribe of Indians of gigantic stature ; of tall bluffs faced 
with stone and carved by the hand of Nature into what 
seemed a multitude of antique towers ; of land so fertile 
as to yield the necessaries of life almost spontaneously ; 
of an immense prairie covered with buffalo, and producing 
nothing but grass because the soil was far too rich for the 
growth of trees ; and how, a thousand miles up the Mis- 
souri, was a vast mountain of salt ! The length was one 
hundred and eighty miles ; the bi'eadth was forty -five ; not 
a tree, not so much as a shrub, was on it ; but, all glit- 
tering white, it rose from the earth a solid mountain of 
rock salt, with streams of saline water flowing from the 
fissures and cavities at its base ! The story, the account 
admitted, might well seem incredible ; but, unhappily for 



200 AMERICAN HISTORY. [McMasteb 

the doubters, bushels of the salt had been shown bj traders 
to the people at St. Louis and Marietta. . . . 

The vexed question of the existence of the salt moun- 
tain was soon to be put at rest. Many months before, 
while the country was excited over the closing of the 
Mississippi, Jefferson urged Congress to send a party of 
explorers up the Missouri to its source, and thence over- 
land to the Pacific Ocean. The idea was a happy one, was 
a]3proved, an apjirojiriation made, and Meriwether Lewis 
and William Clark chosen to carry out the plan. Jeffer- 
son drew their instructions, and on May fourteenth, 1804, 
the party entered the Missouri. In time they crossed the 
mountains, reached the Pacific, and wandered over that 
fine region which came afterward to be known as Oregon. 

[In 1792 the mouth of the Columbia Kiver had been discovered by 
Eobert Gray, a merchant-captain trading between Boston and China 
by way of Cape Horn, and the first American to carry the flag of the 
United States around the world. 

With the purchase of Louisiana is connected an important incident 
in the life of the celebrated Aaron Burr, which may be mentioned 
here. This personage, after serving a term as Vice-President of the 
United States, killed Alexander Hamilton in a duel growing out of a 
political quarrel. Burr next, having lost his property and having in- 
censed the people against him, made his way to the West, and while 
there organized what was supposed to be a scheme for making war on 
the Spanish territories adjoining the newly-gained district of Louisi- 
ana. It is said that he intended to make himself monarch of this 
region, and also that he designed separating the Western Territories 
from the United States. His suspicious movements alarmed the gov- 
ernment, and a proclamation was issued, warning the "Western people 
against illegal enterprises, and ordering the arrest of Burr and his 
followers. He was eventually arrested in Mississippi Territory, and 
sent to Kichmond, where he was tried for treason, in a case that excited 
wide-spread attention. No overt act was proved against him, and he 
was acquitted. Upon his acquittal he went to Europe, where he lived 
for some time in extreme poverty. Returning to America, he practised 
law in an obscure manner for many years, and died in 1836.] 



Cooper] DECATUR AND THE PHILADELPHIA. 201 

STEPHEN DECATUR AND THE FRIGATE PHILADELPHIA. 

J. FENIMORE COOPER. 

[The close of the Eevohitionary War, although it secured the recog- 
nition of the United States as a sovereign and independent nation, bv 
no means removed all the difficulties in its path to empire. From the 
very first, sources of complaint existed between the two lately warrino- 
countries. Great Britain was accused of carrying away negroes at the 
close of the war, of illegal seizures of American property, and of re- 
taining military posts in the West on what was now territory of the 
United States. The United States was charged with withholding the 
estates of loyalists, and preventing British subjects from recovering 
debts contracted before the war. It was feared that another war might 
arise from these disputes, particularly as the Indian outbreaks in the 
West were known to have been encouraged by British emissaries, 
while the defeated savages fled to British forts for protection. These 
difficulties were fortunately settled by a treaty made in 179-5. 

But new sources of trouble quickly arose. The commerce of Amer- 
ica was now increasing with remarkable rapidity. For the protection 
of this growing commerce the country possessed a very inefficient 
navy, and it was exposed to perils which quickly brought the country 
into danger of war with France, and eventually resulted in two wars, 
one with Tripoli and one with England. The outcome of the French 
Kevolution had now brought all Europe under arms, and England had 
begun that vast strvTggle against the power and genius of Napoleon 
which was destined to become the most remarkable event of modern 
warfare. At the outbreak of the war the Republican party favored the 
French, but the administration was in favor of England. Angered at 
this, and at the treaty concluded between the United States and Great 
Britain, the French Directory adopted measures highly injurious to 
American commerce. Envoys were sent to France, whom the Di- 
rectory refused to receive, while an unofficial demand was made for a 
large sum of money as a preliminary to negotiations. This was re- 
fused, and two of the envoys, who were Federalists, were soon after- 
wards ordered to leave France. 

As war now appeared inevitable, the people of the United States 



202 AMERICAN HISTORF. [Cooper 

being roused to a state of high indignation, measures were taken for 
raising an army, a naval armament was decided upon, and captures of 
French vessels were authorized. A few naval encounters tooli place, 
in which on one side an American armed schooner and on the other a 
French frigate were captured, when the Directory gave way, and made 
overtures of peace. Ministers were accordingly sent to France to settle 
the difficulties by treaty. 

Meanwhile, Great Britain had begun that system of impressment 
of seamen from American merchant-vessels which was destined to re- 
sult finally in war between the two nations. Seriously in need of men 
to aid in her struggle with France, and now unable to buy them from 
the German duchies, as she had done in the American war, she claimed 
the right to take British seamen wherever found, and to stop and search 
vessels on the high seas. At first, indeed, the claim was limited to de- 
serters from the British service. But it was soon extended to cover 
British seamen, and finally to embrace all British subjects. Eventu- 
ally the seamen on American merchantmen were obliged to prove on 
the spot that they were of American birth, or be subject to impress- 
ment. As early as the years 1796-7 applications were made in London 
for the release of two hundred and seventy-one seamen thus seized 
within nine months, most of them American citizens. It was later, 
however, before this evil grew so intolerable as to demand warlike 
redress. 

The first commercial war of the United States arose from a diflTerent 
cause, the depredations of Moorish pirates upon American merchant- 
men. For many years past the Barbary Powers of Northern Africa 
had made the Mediterranean unsafe for commerce, and the weaker mer- 
cantile nations of Europe, after some unsuccessful attempts to suppress 
these outrages, had consented to pay an annual tribute for the security 
of their commerce. The United States for some time did the same, 
but a bolder course was soon adopted, and war declared against Tripoli, 
the most annoying of these piratical powers. This war continued 
from 1801 to 1804. In 1803, Commodore Preble was sent with a fleet 
to the Mediterranean. He forced the Emperor of Morocco to adopt 
pacific measures, and then proceeded to Tripoli. Here one of his 
squadron, the frigate Philadelphia, while reconnoitring in the harbor, 
ran on a reef, and was taken by the Tripolitans. This event, and those 
which succeeded, were of such interest and importance that we select 
a detailed description of them from Cooper's " Naval History of the 
United States."] 



CoorER] DECATUR AND THE PHILADELPHIA. 203 

Towards the last of the month of October, the wind, 
which had been strong from the westward for some time 
previously, drove the Philadelphia a considerable distance 
to the eastward of the town, and on Monday, October the 
31st, as she was running down to her station again, with 
a fair breeze, about nine in the morning, a vessel was seen 
in-shore and to windward, standing for Tripoli. Sail was 
made to cut her off. Believing himself to be within long- 
range shot a little before eleven, and seeing no other chance 
of overtaking the stranger in the distance that remained, 
Captain Bainbridge opened a fire, in the hope of cutting 
something away. For near an. hour longer the chase and 
the fii"e were continued, the lead, which was constantly 
kept going, giving from seven to ten fathoms, and the ship 
hauling up and keeping away as the water shoaled or deep- 
ened. At half-past eleven, Tripoli being then in plain sight, 
distant a little more than a league, satisfied that he could 
neither overtake the chase nor force her ashore. Captain 
Bainbridge ordered the helm aport, to haul directly off the 
land into deep water. The next cast of the lead, when 
this order was executed, gave but eight fathoms, and this 
was immediately followed by casts that gave seven, and six 
and a half. At this moment the wind was nearly abeam, 
and the ship had eight knots' way on her. When the cry 
of " half-six" was heard, the helm was put hard down, and 
the yards were ordered to be braced sharp up. While the 
ship was coming up fast to the wind, and before she had 
lost any of her way, she struck a reef forwards, and shot 
up on it, until she lifted between five and six feet. 

This was an appalling accident to occur on the coast of 
such an enemy, at that season of the year, and with no 
other cruiser near. It was first attempted to force the 
vessel ahead, under the impression that the best water was 
to pea ward ; but on sounding round the ship it was found 



204 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cooper 

that she had run up with such force as to lie nearly cradled 
on the rocks, there being only fourteen feet of water under 
the fore-chains, while the ship drew, before striking, eigh- 
teen and a half feet forward. Astern thei'e were not 
eighteen feet of water, instead of twenty and a half, which 
the frigate needed. Such "^an accident could only have 
occurred by the vessel's hitting the reef at a spot where 
it sloped gradually, and whei'e, most j^robably, the con- 
stant washing of the element had rendered the surface 
smooth, and by her going up on top of one of those long, 
heavy, but nearly imperceptible swells that are always 
agitating the bosom of the ocean. 

[Strenuous efforts were made to get the vessel off, as some gunboats 
had appeared from the town. The sails were braced aft, and the guns 
run astern, but without effect.] 

Captain Bainbridge next gave orders to throw overboard 
all the guns, after reserving a few aft, that were retained 
for defence ; and the anchors, with the excej^tion of the 
larboai'd bower, were cut from the bows. Before this 
could be effected, the enemy came within gunshot, and 
opened his fire. Fortunately, the Tripolitans were igno- 
rant of the desperate condition of the Philadelphia, and 
were kept at a respectful distance by the few guns that 
remained ; else they might have destroyed most of the 
crew, it being certain that the colors would not be struck 
so long as there was any hope of getting the ship afloat. 
The cannonade, which was distant and inefficient, and the 
business of lightening the frigate, went on at the same 
time, and occupied several hours. 

The enemy finally became so bold that they crossed the 
stern of the frigate, where alone they were at all exposed 
to her fire, and took a position on her starboard or weather 
quarter. Here it was impossible to touch them, the ship 



Cooper] DECATUR AND THE PHILADELPHIA. 205 

having slewed to port in n way to render it impracticable 
to bring a single gun to bear, or indeed to use one at all, 
on that side. 

Captain Bainbridge now called another council of his 
officers, and it was determined to make a last effort to get 
the vessel off. The water-casks in the hold were started, 
and the water was pumped out. All the heavy articles 
that could be got at were thrown overboard, and finally 
the foremast was cut away, bringing down with it the 
main-top-gallant mast. Notwithstanding all this, the ves- 
sel remained as immovable as the rocks on which she lay. 

The gunboats were growing bolder every minute, others 
were approaching, and night was at hand. Captain Bain- 
bridge, after consulting again with his officers, felt it to 
be an imperious duty to haul down his flag, to save the 
lives of the people. Before this was done, however, the 
magazine was drowned, holes were bored in the ship's 
bottom, the pumps were choked, and everything was 
performed that it was thought would make sure of the 
final loss of the vessel. About five o'clock the colors were 
lowered. 

[The gunboats at once ran alongside and took possession, and the 
officers and crew were sent as prisoners to Tripoli, after being stripped, 
in some cases, of nearly all their clothing. The officers were well 
treated by the bashaw, but the capture of so many prisoners made 
an instant change in his position. He had taken three hundred and 
fifteen captives, twenty-two of them quarter-deck officers, from the 
Philadelphia, for whom he demanded an enormous ransom, while his 
former supposed inclination to peace disappeared. A few days after- 
wards the prize was got off the reef, partly by the aid of a high wind, 
and was taken in triumph to the city, the leaks being stopped. The 
guns, anchors, and other articles which had been thrown upon the 
reef were raised, and the ship portly repaired, and moored off the 
town, about a quarter of a mile from the bashaw's castle, her guns 
being remounted. 

II. 18 



206 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Coopek 

The fleet had been absent during these occurrences, Commodore 
Preble first learning at Malta of the loss of the Philadelphia. On his 
return to Tripoli a suggestion was made by Captain Bainbridge of the 
possibility of destroying the lost vessel, which was slowly being fitted 
for sea as a Tripolitan cruiser. The suggestion being made to Lieu- 
tenant Stephen Decatur, commander of the Enterprise, he at once de- 
cided to attempt the perilous undertaking, with the aid of a ketch 
called the Mastico, which he had recently captured. This vessel was 
fitted for the purpose, renamed the Intrepid, and on the evening of 
February 3, 1804, entered the harbor of Tripoli, having on board a 
crew of seventy-six men.] 

It was a mild evening for the season, and the sea and 
bay were smooth as in summer. Perceiving that he was 
likely to get in too soon, when about five miles from the 
rocks Mr. Decatur ordered buckets and other drags to be 
towed astern, in order to lessen the way of the ketch, 
without shortening sail, as the latter expedient would 
have been seen from the port and must have awakened 
suspicion. In the mean time the wind gradually fell, until 
it became so light as to leave the ketch but about two 
knots' way ujjon her, when the drags were removed. 

About ten o'clock the Intrepid reached the eastern en- 
trance of the bay, or the passage between the rocks and 
the sboal. The wind was nearlj^ east, and, as she steered 
directly for the frigate, it was well abaft the beam. There 
was a young moon, and as these bold adventurers were 
slowly advancing into a hostile port, all around them was 
tranquil and apparently without distrust. For near an 
hour they were stealing slowly along, the air gradually 
failing, until their motion became scarcely perceptible. 

Most of the officers and men of the ketch had been 
ordered to lie on the deck, where they were concealed 
by low bulwarks, or weather-boards, and by the diiferent 
objects that belong to a vessel. As it is the practice of 
those seas to carry a number of men even in the smallest 



Cooper] DECATUR AND THE PHILADELPHIA. 



207 



craft, the appearance of ten or twelve would excite no 
alarm, and this number was visible. 

[The Philadelphia hailed the ketch, when sufficiently near. Answer 
was returned that it was a Maltese vessel, which had lost its anchors 
in a gale, and wished to ride by the frigate during the night. The 
pilot, who could speak the Tripolitan language, continued to converse 
with the Moors, until the ketch came so near as nearly to run afoul 
of the frigate.] 

Not the smallest suspicion appears to have been yet ex- 
cited on board the frigate, though several of her people 
were looking over her rails, and notwithstanding the 
moonlight. So completely were the Turks deceived that 
they lowered a boat and sent it with a fast. Some of the 
ketch's men, in the mean time, had got into her boat, 
and had run a line to the frigate's fore-chains. As they 
returned, they met the frigate's boat, took the fast it 
brought, which came from the after part of the ship, and 
passed it into their own vessel. These fasts were put into 
the hands of the men, as they lay on the ketch's deck, 
and they began cautiously to breast the Intrepid along- 
side of the Philadelphia, without rising. As soon as the 
former got near enough to the ship, the Turks discovered 
her anchors, and they sternly ordered the ketch to keep 
off, as she had deceived them, — preparing, at the same 
time, to cut the fasts. All this passed in a moment, wbeti 
the cry of " Amerikanos!" was heard in the ship. The 
people of the Intrepid, by a strong pull, brought their 
vessel alongside of the frigate, where she was secured, 
quick as thought. Up to this movement not a whisper 
had betrayed the presence of the men concealed. The 
instructions had been positive, to keep quiet until com- 
manded to show themselves, and no precipitation, even in 
that trying moment, deranged the plan. 

Lieutenant-Commander Decatur was standing ready for 



208 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cooper 

a spring, with Messrs. Laws and Morris quite near him. 
As soon as close enough, he jumped at the frigate's chain- 
plates, and, while clinging to the ship himself, he gave the 
order to board. The two midshipmen were at his side, 
and all the officers and men of the Intrepid arose and 
followed. The three gentlemen named were in the chains 
together, and Lieutenant-Commander Decatur and Mr, 
Morris sprang at the rail above them, while Mr. Laws 
dashed at a port. To the latter would have belonged the 
honor of having been first in this gallant assault, but, 
wearing a boarding-belt, his pistols were caught between 
the gun and the side of the port. Mr. Decatur's foot 
slipped in springing, and Mr. Charles Morris stood first 
upon the quarter-deck of the Philadelphia. In an instant 
Lieutenant-Commander Decatur and Mr. Laws were at 
his side, while heads and bodies appeared coming over the 
rail, and through the ports, in all directions. 

The surprise appears to have been as perfect as the 
assault was rapid and earnest. Most of the Turks on 
deck crowded forward, and all ran over to the starboard 
side as their enemies poured in on the larboard. A few 
were aft, but as soon as charged they leaped into the 
water. Indeed, the constant plunges into the water gave 
the assailants the assurance that their enemies were fast 
lessening in numbers by flight. It took but a minute or 
two to clear the sj^ar-deck, though there was more of a 
struggle below. Still, so admirably managed was the at- 
tack, and so complete the surprise, that the resistance was 
but trifling. In less than ten minutes Mr. Decatur was on 
the quarter-deck again, in undisturbed possession of the 
prize. 

There can be no doubt that this gallant officer now felt 
bitter regrets that it was not in his power to bring away 
the ship he had so nobly recovered. Not only were his 



CooPEK] DECATUR AND THE PHILADELPHIA. 209 

orders on this point pereniptorj', however, but the frigate 
had not a sail bent, nor a yard crossed, and she wanted her 
foremast. It was next to impossible, therefore, to remove 
her, and the command was given to pass up the combusti- 
bles from the ketch. 

The duty of setting fire to the prize appears to have 
been executed with as much promptitude and order as 
every other part of the service. The officers distributed 
themselves, agreeably to the previous instructions, and the 
men soon appeared with the necessary means. Each party 
acted by itself, and as it got read}-. So rapid were they 
all in their movements that the men with combustibles 
had scarcely time to get as low as the cockpit and after- 
store-rooms before the fires w^ere lighted over their heads. 
When the officer intrusted with the duty last mentioned 
had got through, he found the after-hatches filled with 
smoke from the fire in the ward-room and steerage, and 
he was obliged to make his escape by the forward ladders. 

The Americans were in the ship from twenty to twenty- 
five minutes, and they were literally driven out of her by 
the flames. The vessel had got to be so dry in that low 
latitude that she burnt like pine; and the combustibles 
had been as judiciously prepared as they were steadily 
used. The last party up were the people who had been 
in the store-rooms, and when they reached the deck they 
found most of their companions already in the Intrepid. 
Joining them, and ascertaining that all was read}', the 
order was given to cast off". Notwithstanding the daring 
character of the enterprise in general, Mr. Decatur and 
his party now ran the greatest risks they had incurred 
that night. So fierce had the conflagration already be- 
come that the flames began to pour out of the ports, and, 
the head-fast having been cast off, the ketch fell astern, 
with her jigger flapping against the quarter-galley, and 
II.— o 18* 



210 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cooper 

iier boom foul. The fire showed itself in the window at 
this critical moment, and beneath was all the ammunition 
of the party, covered with a tarpaulin. To increase the 
risk, the stern-fast was jammed. By using swords, how- 
ever, for there was no time to look for an axe, the hawser 
was cut, and the Intrejiid was extricated from the most 
imminent danger by a vigorous shove. As she swung clear 
of the frigate, the flames reached the rigging, up which 
they went hissing like a rocket, the tar having oozed from 
the ropes, which had been saturated with that inflammable 
matter. Matches could not have kindled with greater 
quickness. 

The sweeps were now manned. Up to this moment 
everything had been done earnestly, though without noise, 
but as soon as they felt that they had got command of 
their ketch again, and by two or three vigorous strokes 
had sent her away from the frigate, the people of the In- 
trepid ceased rowing, and, as one man, they gave three 
cheers for victory. This appeared to arouse the Turks 
from their stupor, for the cry had hardly ended when the 
batteries, the two corsairs, and the galley [which lay close 
within the Philadelphia] poured in their fire. The men 
laid hold of the sweeps again, of which the Intrepid had 
eight of a side, and, favored b}' a light air, they went 
merrily down the harbor. 

The spectacle that followed is described as having been 
both beautiful and sublime. The entire bay was illumi- 
nated by the conflagration, the roar of cannon was con- 
stant, and Tripoli was in a clamor. The appearance of 
the ship was in the highest degree magnificent ; and, to 
add to the eff'ect, as her guns heated they begun to go off. 
Owing to the shift of wind, and the position into which 
she had tended, she, in some measure, returned the enemy's 
fire, as one of her broadsides was discharijed in the direc- 



Cooper] DECATUR AND THE PHILADELPHIA. 211 

tion of the town, and the other towards Fort English. 
The most singular effect of the conflagration was on board 
the ship, for the flames, having run up the rigging and 
masts, collected under the tops, and fell over, giving the 
whole the appearance of glowing columns and fiery capitals. 

[The Intrepid continued her course outward, unpursued, and unhurt 
by the shot that was sent after her, until she reached the Siren, which 
had lain outside the harbor during the enterprise. Setting sai], they 
made their way to Syracuse, where the fleet lay.] 

The success of this gallant exploit laid the foundation 
of the name which Mr. Decatur subsequently acquired in 
the navy. The country applauded the feat generally ; 
and the commanding ofiicer was raised from the station of 
a lieutenant to that of a captain. . . . 

In whatever light we regard this exploit, it extorts our 
admiration and praise, — the boldness in the conception of 
the enterprise having been surpassed only by the perfect 
manner in which all its parts were executed. Nothing 
appears to have been wanting, in a military point of view ; 
nothing was deranged, nothing defeated. The hour was 
well chosen, and no doubt it was a chief reason why the 
corsairs, gunboats, and batteries were, in the first place, so 
slow in commencing their fire, and so uncertain in their 
aim when they did open on the Americans. In appreci- 
ating the daring of the attempt, we have only to consider 
what might have been the consequences had the assault 
upon the frigate been repulsed. Directly under her guns, 
with a harbor filled with light cruisers, gunboats, and gal- 
leys, and surrounded by forts and batteries, the inevitable 
destruction of all in the Intrepid must have followed. 
These were dangers that cool steadiness and entire self- 
possession, aided by perfect discipline, could alone avert. 
In the service the enterprise has ever been regarded as 



212 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Schouler 

one of its most brilliant achievements, and to this day it is 
deemed a high honor to have been one of the Intrepid's 
crew. 

[The war with Tripoli continued until 1805, when a land-expedition 
was undertaken which captured Derne, a Tripolitan city. The army 
of the bashaw was also defeated in two engagements, after which he 
offered terms of peace, which were accepted. The fleet next anchored 
in the Bay of Tunis, and forced the monarch of that country into 
peaceful measures. "War subsequently broke out in the same region, 
with Algiers. From 1795 to 1812 an annual tribute had been paid 
to the dey of this country, but he took advantage of the war of 
America with England to begin a piratical warfare on American ves- 
sels. In 1815, Commodore Decatur was sent to Algiers with a fleet, 
and, after capturing several of the largest vessels of the dey, com- 
pelled that potentate to release all American prisoners in his posses- 
sion, and to give up all future claims of tribute from the United States. 
Tunis and Tripoli were also humbled, and the long-continued piracies 
of the Barbary Powers finally suppressed.] 



THE CHESAPEAKE AFFAIR AND THE EMBARGO. 

JAMES SCHOULER. 

[The terrible and long-continued conflict in Europe between Eng- 
land and her allies on the one hand and Napoleon on the other could 
not fail to be felt in America, and, as the combat grew more desperate 
and the powers of the combatants more strained, measures were taken 
whose effects were severely felt by all the civilized world. The demand 
for men made England eager to gain sailors and soldiers from any 
source and in any manner, and the principle of impressment was ex- 
tended from British soil to the merchant-ships of the United States. 
Many American citizens were thus impressed, under the claim that 
they were British subjects. Long persistence in this course made the 
captains of British war-vessels so over-bold and insolent that they 
finally enforced their "right of search" upon an American frigate. 



ScHOULER] THE CHESAPEAKE AFFAIR. 213 

The story of this outrageous proceeding, and of the subsequent meas- 
ures adopted in America to punish England and France for their 
tj^ranny towards commerce, is well told in Schouler's " History of the 
United States," from which we select the following description.] 

A CANNON-SHOT from a British man-of-war parted the 
flimsy veil of diplomatic assurances that a right of search 
could be considerately practised, and made a breach that 
was never repaired. The insolence of British naval com- 
manders on the American coast had certainly suffered 
little constraint under recent orders from home. In the 
course of the spring a British sloop-of-war, one of the 
vessels which had been inhibited by the President's proc- 
lamation at the time of the Leander outrage, entered 
Charleston harbor to procure water, and defied the local 
authorities when ordered to depart. 

That affront to the United States was trivial in com- 
parison with one that presently followed. Three seamen, 
having deserted from the Melampus, one of the British 
squadron whose rendezvous was just within the capes 
of Virginia, enlisted on board the United States frigate 
Chesapeake, then fitting out at the Washington navy-yard 
for the Mediterranean. Their surrender was requested 
by Minister Erskine, but our administration declined, on 
ample grounds, to comply. We have seen that our gov- 
ernment was now offering to forbid the employment of 
deserters, on reciprocal terms, and as an inducement to 
some relaxation of impressment on England's part. With- 
out a treaty, as was the case here, no obligation rested 
upon the United States to surrender deserters from the 
British navy at all ; the more so that, unlike desertions 
from merchantmen, which are mere breaches of private 
contract, desertion from a ship of war must have sub- 
jected the culprit to the punishment of a court-martial. 
Inquiries showed, moreover, that all these men were col- 



214 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Schouler 

ored, and Americans by birth, two of whom had been 
pressed into the British service from an American vessel 
in the Bay of Biscay. To this government the mutual 
extradition was of very little consequence ; and yet, so 
far from countenancing British desertions, our executive 
had forbidden the enlistment of persons in the navy 
known to be British subjects, a prohibition which did not 
here apply. 

Official correspondence closed, but the British captains 
appear to have stimulated Admiral Berkeley, who com- 
manded, to issue from Halifax an extraordinary order, 
enabling them to take the law into their own hands. 
Sailing from "Washington in June, and reporting at Nor- 
folk to Commodore Barron for duty, the Chesapeake 
dropped down to Hampton Eoads, and on the morning 
of the 22d [June, 1807] set sail, having the three colored 
sailors on board. From the British squadron, the Leop- 
ard, a two-decker, mounting about fifty guns, stood out 
to sea at the same time, preceding the Chesapeake, but 
keejiing her in sight. 

The British officers had muttered threats, though givin» 
no clear notice of their intention. Barron, less suspicious 
than he should have been, proceeded on his course. The 
Chesapeake mounted only thii-ty-eight guns, some of which 
had just been put on boai'd. His crew was not j^et drilled 
to the use of ordnance, his deck was littered, and the ves- 
sel was altogether unfit for immediate action. At three 
o'clock in the afternoon the Leopard bore down and hailed 
her ; and while the Chesapeake lay to, a boat from Cap- 
tain Humphreys of the Leopard brought his demand foi 
the three alleged deserters from the Melampus. The Brit- 
ish lieutenant, who stepped on board, produced likewise, 
in token of Humphreys's authority, a cop}' of what pur- 
ported to be a circular from the admiral at Halifax. That 



ScHOiTLER] THE CHESAPEAKE AFFAIR. 215 

circular, dated June 1, which was now produced for the 
first time, recited, in an exaggerated strain, that British 
subjects and deserters had enlisted on board the Chesa- 
peake, and ordered all captains of his command, who 
should fall in with that frigate at sea, to show these in- 
structions and proceed to search for such deserters, — the 
pretence being added that the search of a national vessel 
was according to civilized usage, which permitted the 
Chesapeake also to make a corresjDonding search in return. 

Commodore Barron, though taken by surprise, made a 
suitable reply, denying knowledge of any such deserters, 
and claiming that the crew of a United States war-vessel 
could only be mustered by their own officers. But in his 
excitement he seemed to forget the sure consequence of 
such a response, and made his preparations for action quite 
tardily. The Leopard's ports were triced up when she 
appeared in sight, and while the lieutenant waited half 
an hour for his reply, the vessel had worked into au 
advantageous position. 

Humphreys, upon the return of his boat with Barron's 
reply, called through a trumpet, " Commodore Barron 
must be aware that the orders of the admiral must be 
obeyed." Barron did not understand, and this was re- 
peated. A cannon-shot across the bows of the Chesapeake 
followed these ominous words, soon another, and then a 
whole broadside. AVhile our unfortunate frigate was ex- 
posed for twelve minutes to a raking fire, a vain eftbrt was 
made to discharge its own guns ; but neither priming nor 
match could be found, and appliances for reloading were 
wanting. At last, after the Chesapeake had received 
twenty-one round-shot in the hull, three of the crew being 
killed and eighteen wounded, and Barron himself receiv- 
ing a shght hurt, the American flag descended, and at the 
same moment the first and only gun on the American side 



216 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Schouler 

was touched off by one of the officers by means of a live 
coal brought from the galley. The crew of the Chesa- 
peake was mustered submissively before two British lieu- 
tenants, who, after a protracted search, arrested the three 
"colored men from the Melampus, and one "Wilson or Rat- 
ford, besides, a deserter from another British vessel, who 
had hidden in a coal-hole. Having secured these prisoners, 
Humphreys, with much show of politeness, refused to ac- 
cept the Chesapeake as his prize, and sailed for Halifax. 
Here the four deserters were tried by British court-martial 
and sentenced to be hanged. Wilson, who was an English 
subject, was executed, but a reprieve was granted to the 
three colored Americans on condition of their re-entering 
the British service. 

[This extreme instance of the exercise of the right of search, claimed 
by the British authorities, roused an instant storm throughout America. 
What had been an outrage when applied to merchant-vessels was now 
converted into a deep insult by this enforced search of a man-of-war.] 

When, therefore, the drooping, dismantled Chesapeake 
came back into Norfolk harbor, bearing its dead and d^ing, 
no wonder that the smouldering wrath of our sensitive 
people leaped into flame. Men M^ore crape upon their 
arms to mourn for the slain. In all the chief commercial 
towns were held public meetings, where citizens, without 
distinction of party, united in execrating the British out- 
rage. Reparation for the past and security for the future 
was the universal cry of American freemen : — reparation 
or war. " This countr}^," wrote Jefl'erson, " has never been 
in such a state of excitement since the battle of Lexington." 

A Cabinet meeting was promptly called at Washing- 
ton, and measures resolved upon in tone with the public 
exj^ression, — not, however, to the extent of declaring war, 
though from the temper of the new British ministry this 



ScHOTJLER] THE CHESAPEAKE AFFAIR. 217 

was expected to follo-w. American vessels in distant jDorts 
were warned of their danger. Eecent appropriations for 
defence were used in strengthening our most exposed 
ports, New York, New Orleans, and Charleston. Of the 
gunboats available for service, most were assigned to New 
York, New Orleans, and the Chesapeake. Militar}- stores 
were jjrocured, and States were called upon for their quotas 
of one hundred thousand militia to be organized and ready 
to march. 

A proclamation ordered British cruisers to depart from 
American waters, and forbade all aid and intercourse with 
them except in case of extremity. On the return of the 
Chesapeake to Norfolk, the inhabitants of that town had 
resolved in public meeting to hold no intercourse with 
the British squadron in the vicinity until the President's 
pleasure was known. This decision was received with 
contemptuous defiance by the British commander Douglas, 
whose squadron remained within our waters, chasing 
American merchantmen, until Governor Cabell, of Vir- 
ginia, ordered militia detachments to the scene. There 
was no naval force on the coast adequate for compelling 
obedience to the President's proclamation, a circumstance 
of which British cruisers took advantage ; but so long as 
they lay quietly outside there was no disposition to molest 
them. 

[Orders were at once sent to Minister Monroe, in London, to suspend 
all negotiations with England, except for a disavowal of and redress 
for this outrage. The ministry at once disavowed the act, and a con- 
ditional reparation was promised. This, however, was never made. 
Apology and indemnity to the families of the slain could not be given 
without yielding the claim of the right to search American vessels, and 
this the ministry continued to insist upon. The fierce struggle between 
England and Napoleon, indeed, brought fresh measures into vogue, 
which bore yet more severely on neutral nations. British " Orders in 
Council," and Napoleon's counter-proclamations, cut off all the com- 
II.— K 19 



218 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Schocler 

merce of the United States with Europe, and no merchant-vessel 
could cross the ocean to a European port except under peril of capture 
and confiscation. By way of reprisal, Congress, at the suggestion of 
President Jefferson, on December 18, 1807, passed a bill laying an 
embargo on all foreign-bound vessels, with the expectation that if all 
American commerce with Europe were thus prevented, the authori- 
ties of England and France would be glad to rescind their oppressive 
decrees. The idea proved erroneous. It quicklj' appeared that the 
warring powers could do without America better than America could 
do without them.] 

Congress had adjourned in April [1808], leaving the Pres- 
ident at full leisure to apply his experiment during a long 
recess. At first embargo had been well received, but after 
the spring elections appeared decisive symptoms that sen- 
timent was changing. The stoppage of commerce bore 
with crushing severity upon New England, whose ships 
and seamen were thrown suddenly out of employment. 
Her old merchants tottered to ruin, without a general 
bankrupt law to relieve them. Bread stuifs and fresh pro- 
visions accumulated at the wharves, which, if not exported, 
would perish and be a dead loss. The high price of such 
supplies abroad, in comparison with the statute penalties, 
encouraged shippers to practise every artifice to get them 
out of the country, though at the risk of captiire. The 
law was evaded by fraud or force; vessels slipped out 
from Machias, Portland, Nantucket, and Newport harbors ; 
and so high-handed was the resistance to embargo on the 
Canada border at Lake Champlain, where ap illicit traffic 
went on, that the national government had to equip vessels 
and send troops thither to maintain its authoi'itj'. 

Flour was the chief commodity in these smuggling ven- 
tures. Much was got over the lines into Canada ; barrels 
upon barrels were stored, too, at Eastport and in the south- 
ern ports of Georgia, ready to be conveyed, as opportunity 
might serve, into New Brunswick over the one boundary 



ScHOULER] THE EMBARGO. 219 

and Florida over the other. On this account, chiefly, 
Congress had passed the third Embargo Act just before 
adjournment, under which the President was empowered 
to grant special permits for vessels to clear from ports ad- 
jacent to foreign territories and make seizure and search 
of suspected vessels. Collectors were accordingly directed 
not to grant clearances at all to vessels laden with flour. 
But, some States finding it needful to import flour for 
home consumption, the President authorized the respective 
governors to grant merchandise permits for domestic con- 
venience to those in whom they had confidence. This plan 
worked badly, for some of the State executives, in fulfil- 
ling their functions as " ministers of starvation," yielded 
too readily to the clamors of the merchants who pestered 
them, as did especially the easy-tempered SulUvan, whose 
ofiScial permits soon began circulating in cities as far south 
as "Washington, where they were openly bought and sold. 
By a later circular the President advised the collectors 
not to detain coastwise vessels with unsuspicious cargoes ; 
and this rule operated much better. 

New York city felt embargo like the creep of death. 
In November that port was full of shipping. On the 
wharves were strewn bales of cotton, wool, and merchan- 
dise ; bai'rels of potash, rice, flour, and salted provisions ; 
hogsheads of sugar, tea, rum, and wine. Carters, sailors, 
and stevedores were busy. The Tontine Coffee-House 
was filled with underwriters, brokers, and merchants, all 
driving a brisk business, while the auctioneer on the front 
steps knocked off the goods which were heaped about the 
sidewalk. Carts, drays, and wheelbarrows jammed up 
the Wall and Pearl Street corner. But the next April all 
was quiet and stagnation ; crowds and merchandise had 
vanished from Coffee-House SUp, and many commercial 
houses in the vicinity were closed up. 



220 AMERICAN HISTORY. [ScHorLER 

By midsummei- the President and Secretaiy Gallatin 
were burdened with cases which required special instruc- 
tions. They were tormented by personal applications for 
leave to transport. Against every loop-hole appeared the 
pressure of a besieging host. It was the most embarrass- 
ing law Jefferson had ever to execute ; he had not expected 
such a sudden growth of fraud and open opposition. But 
he was resolved, nevertheless, that the convenience of the 
citizen should yield far enough to give the experiment a 
fair trial. . . . 

History must admit that so far as embargo was used as 
a weapon for coercing Europe it utterly disappointed ex- 
pectation. The sacrifice required at home, in order to 
produce an impression abroad, proved of itself fatal in 
practice to the long endurance of any such experiment. 
If England bled, or France, under the operation, the 
United States bled faster. Jefferson miscalculated in sup- 
posing that the European struggle had nearly culminated, 
or that the nerveless Continental powers could organize 
an armed neutrality to protect their own interests. In- 
stead of a sinking, vacillating, debt-ridden England, he 
found a stubborn England making capital of what it owed, 
its prodigious resources slowly uncoiling. He found a new 
ministry, hard as flint, with Parliament to brace it, bend- 
ing with redoubled energies to the war, heedless of Liver- 
pool remonstrances, marching the red-coats to break up 
meetings and suppress riots in Manchester and those other 
manufacturing towns where embargo and the Continental 
exclusion were most heavily felt. Next to making Amer- 
ican commerce tributary to the British exchequer, the aim 
of those who framed the Orders in Council had been to 
drive it from the ocean, so that British merchants might 
absorb the maritime trade once more to themselves. This 
latter alternative embargo directly favored. Our non- 



Morris] TWO FEARS OF WAR. 221 

importation act, which had now gone into effect against 
Great Britain, made it still less an object for that country 
to court a repeal of the embargo. By way, too, of partial 
offset to the loss of our market, a new one was opened to 
England by the outbreak in Spain. As if to exasperate us 
to the utmost, the Orders in Council were repealed as to 
that nation, but not the United States. 

[Slowly and surely America was drifting towards war, as the only 
escape from the evils produced by the European struggle, which em- 
bargo and non-importation heightened instead of alleviating.] 



TWO YEARS OF WAR. 

CHARLES MORRIS. 

Tbe closing act of Jefferson's administration, passed on 
March 1, 1809, was a repeal of the embargo, whose effect 
had been so ruinous to American commerce, and the passage 
of a bill interdicting all commercial intercourse with France 
and England. Jefferson, after his eight yeai's' tei-m, had, 
like "Washington under the same circumstances, declined a 
re-election, and James Madison was made President, while 
George Clinton, Jefferson's second Yice-President, was re- 
elected. The trouble with France and England continued. 
The British minister at Washington agreed that the 
*' Orders in Council" should be repealed so far as they 
affected the United States, but this promise was disavowed 
by his government, and non-intercourse, which had been 
suspended, was re-proclaimed. Bonaparte, in March, 1810, 
issued a hostile decree against American commerce, but in 
November he revoked this and all similar decrees, and inter- 
II. 19* 



222 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

course was resumed between France and the United States. 
England, however, obstinately refused to annul her hostile 
acts, and went so far as to station ships of war before 
American ports, seizing merchantmen, and sending them 
as legal prizes to British ports. In May, 1811, an en- 
counter took place between the frigate President and the 
British war-sloop Little Belt. The captain of tlie latter, 
instead of answering the hail of Commodore Eogei's, fired 
a shot, which was answered by a broadside. A short en- 
gagement ensued, the British losing eleven killed and 
twenty-one wounded, while the Americans had but one 
man wounded. 

A state of affairs now existed between the two countries 
which could only end in war if England persisted in her 
offensive measures. America could not consent to leave 
her commerce and her seamen at the mercy of British 
cruisers. Yet the British ministry displayed unyielding 
obstinacy, and in April, 1812, a new embargo act was 
passed by Congress, while on the 4th of June a bill de- 
claring war against Great Britain passed the House. On 
the 17th this bill passed the Senate, and war was pro- 
claimed by the President on the 19th. It was a war for 
which no adequate provision had been made. The navy 
of the United States was in no condition to cope with that 
of England. The regular army numbered but six thou- 
sand men, and the other requisites of war were as poorly 
pi-ovided for. On the other hand, the time was oppor- 
tunely chosen. England was still engaged in her vital 
struggle with France, which exhausted her resources to 
such an extent that she could bring but a minor portion 
of her strength to bear on America. Yet so miserably 
was the war managed on the part of the United States 
that the record of the first year was but a succession of 
shameful disasters, and it was not till 1814 that the Ameri- 



Morris] TWO FEARS OF WAR. 223 

cans began to show a decided ability to win battles. On 
the water their record was from the outset brilliant and 
successful. 

Efforts were at once made to enlist twenty-five thousand 
men and to raise fifty thousand volunteers, while one 
hundred thousand militia were called for to defend the 
frontiers and the sea-coast. General Dearborn, of Mas- 
sachusetts, a Eevolutionary officer, was appointed com- 
mander-in-chief The first operations of the war were 
directed against Canada. They were conducted with a 
mismanagement and incompetency which could but result 
in disaster. After the repulse of the Indians by Harrison 
at the battle of Tippecanoe, in 1811, further troubles with 
the savages arose on the northwestern frontier, against 
whom marched General Hull, with an army of two thou- 
sand men. He was directed to extend his march into 
Canada and attack the British post at Maiden. Yet ere 
he could reach there the strong American fort at Mack- 
inaw was surprised and taken by the English. The gar- 
rison had not even been apprised of the declaration of 
war, and consequently they were utterly unprepared for an 
assault. Hull's expedition was shamefully mismanaged. 
After remaining inactive nearly a month in Canada, he 
hastily retreated to Detroit, where, soon afterwards, he 
was attacked by a smaller force of British and Indians. 
Though he possessed every advantage of position, he sud- 
denly recalled his army within the fort, and the white 
flag of surrender was displayed, without an effort at de- 
fence. Attempts, not very satisfactory, have been made 
to palliate this act of seeming cowai'dice, which left the 
whole Northwest at the mercy of the British. General 
Hull was afterwards court-martialled and sentenced to 
death, but was pardoned by the President. 

In other quarters the same lack of success appeared. 



224 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

On the Niagara frontier, General Van Eensselaer crossed 
the river and captured tlie heights of Queenstown. Here 
he was attacked by a strong force, while the American 
militia on the other side of the river could not be induced 
to cross to his aid. In consequence, nearly the whole of 
his force was killed or captured. A second advance, under 
General Smyth, ended in a mere look across the river 
and an abandonment of the design. 

There has never, before or since, been displayed such 
utter incompetency in American generalship as that which 
marked this disastrous campaign. The bravery of Yan 
Eensselaer was the only relief to the general cowardice 
of the American leaders. In 1813 the campaign began 
with the army in three divisions, that of the West under 
General Harrison, that of the Niagara frontier under Gen- 
eral Dearborn, and that of the Lake Champlain region 
under General Hampton. In the "West General Winches- 
ter was attacked at Frenchtown, on the river Eaisin, by 
a superior force under Proctor. After a gallant defence, 
Winchester was taken prisoner by the Indians. Under a 
pledge of protection from Proctor he agreed to surrender 
his troops. The British general's pledge was basely vio- 
lated, the wounded prisoners being left to the tender mercy 
of the savages. 

Harrison, learning of this disaster, fell back, and began 
a foi'tified camp, which he named Fort Meigs. This fort 
was besieged by two thousand British and Indians, under 
Proctoi*. After a week's siege, and the repulse of a re- 
lieving party, the Indians deserted their allies, and Proctor 
abandoned the siege. He advanced again in the latter 
part of July, with a force of four thousand men, the In- 
dians under Tecumseh. After a few days' siege he with- 
drew, and with a force of thirteen hundred attacked Fort 
Stephenson, on the site of Sandusky, then held by one 



Morris] T]V0 FEARS OF WAR. 225 

hundred and fifty men, under Major Croglian, a youth of 
twenty-one. Surrender was demanded, under a threat of 
massacre if the fort was taken, but the brave j-outh re- 
plied that when the fort was taken there would be no one 
left to kill. An attempt was then made to carry the foi*t 
by assault, which was repulsed, and the besiegers fled in 
a panic, having lost one hundred and fifty men. 

General Dearborn's army gained some advantages. Gen- 
eral Pike led an expedition against Yoi'k, in Canada, the 
gi'eat depository of British militaiy stores for the supply 
of the Western posts. While storming the town the en- 
emy's magazine blew up, with severe loss to the besiegers. 
Pike was mortally wounded, and the arm}^ thrown into 
confusion. Eecovering, they advanced and took the town. 
The squadron returned to Sackett's Harbor with a large 
amount of spoils. Shortly afterwards Sir George Prevost 
assailed the American post at Sackett's Harbor, but failed 
to take it. On the same day the Americans captured 
Fort George, on the Canadian side of the Niagai^. In 
November an expedition was sent against Montreal, which 
proved unsuccessful. Somewhat later Fort George was 
abandoned, and Fort Niagara was captured by the British, 
who burned the neighboring towns and villages, in retribu- 
tion for the burning of the Canadian town of Newark by 
the Americans. The failures and unimportant successes 
here chronicled were relieved by two victorious engage- 
ments, the victory of Commodore Perry on Lake Erie, 
and that of General Harrison on the Thames, which call 
for more particular mention. 



226 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Headlet 

THE CONSTITUTION AND THE GUERRIERE. 

J. T. HEADLEY. 

[At the beginning of the war with Enghand the navy of the United 
States numbered but nine frigates and' a few sloops of war, while 
Great Britain had a hundred ships of the line, and more than a thou- 
sand vessels bearing her flag. Yet, weak as was our navy, it was 
stronger than the British naval force then in American waters, and 
there was reason to hope for some successes ere the latter could be 
reinforced. No time was lost by the ardent commanders of the Ameri- 
can ships of war. Among other vessels, the forty- four-gun frigate 
Constitution put to sea, and was soon after chased by a British squad- 
ron, from which she escaped with great diflJculty. The story of the 
victorious event which soon followed we select from Headley's " Second 
War with England."] 

On the 28th of July an order was sent from the Secre- 
tary of the Navy to Captain Hull, at Boston, to deliver 
np the Constitution to Commodore Bainbridge and take 
charge of the frigate Constellation, But, fortunately for 
him and the navy, just before this order reached him he 
had again set sail, and was out on the deep, where the 
anxieties of the department did not disturb him. Cruising 
eastwai'd along the coast, he captured ten small prizes 
near the mouth of the St. Lawrence and burned them. 
In the middle of the month he recaptured an American 
merchantman and sent her in, and then stood to the south- 
ward. On the 19th he made a strange sail, one of the ves- 
sels that a few weeks before had pressed him so hard in 
the chase. When the Constitution had run down to within 
three miles of him, the Englishman laid his maintop-sail 
aback, and hung out three flags, to show his willingness 
to engage. Captain Dacres, the commander, surprised at 
the daring manner in which the stranger came down, 
turned to the captain of an Amei'ican merchantman 



Headley] the constitution AND GUERRIERE. 227 

whom he had captured a few days before, and asked him 
what vessel he took that to be. The latter replied, as he 
handed back the glass to Daeres, that he thought from 
her sails she was an American. " It cannot be possible," 
said Daeres, " or he would not stand on so boldly." It 
was soon evident, whoever the stranger might be, he was 
bent on mischief Hull prepared his vessel for action de- 
liberately, and, after putting her under close fighting 
canvas and sending down her royal yards, ordered the 
drums to beat to quarters. It was now five o'clock, and, 
as the Constitution bore steadily down towards her antag- 
onist, the crew gave three cheers. The English vessel 
was well known, for she had at one of her mast-heads a 
flag proudly flying, with the " Guerriere" written in large 
characters upon it. When the Constitution arrived within 
long gunshot, the Guerriere opened her fire, now wearing 
to bring her broadside to bear, and again to prevent being 
raked by the American, which slowly but steadily ap- 
proached. The Englishman kept up a steady fire for 
nearly an hour, to which the Constitution replied with 
only an occasional gun. The crew at length became ex- 
cited under this inaction. The officer below had twice 
come on deck to report that men had been killed standing 
idly at their guns, and begged permission to fire ; but 
Hull still continued to receive the enemy's broadsides in 
silence. The Guerriere, failing to cripple the Constitution, 
filled and moved off" with the wind free, showing that she 
was willing to receive her and finish the conflict in a yard- 
arm to yard-arm combat. The Constitution then drew 
slowly ahead, and the moment her bows began to lap the 
quarters of the Guerriere her forward guns opened, and 
in a few minutes after the welcome orders were received 
to pour in broadside after broadside as rapidly as possible. 
When she was fairly abeam, the broadsides were fired 



228 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hkadlet 

with a rapidity and power that astounded the enemy. As 
the old ship forged slowly ahead with her greater way, 
she seemed moving in flame. The mizzen-mast of the 
enemy soon fell with a crash, while her hull was riddled 
with shot and her decks slippery with gore. The carnage 
was so awful that the blood from the wounded and mangled 
victims, as they were hurried into the cockpit, poured over 
the ladder as if it had been dashed from a bucket. As 
Hull passed his antagonist he wheeled short round her 
bows to prevent a raking fire. But in doing this he came 
dead into the wind ; his sails were taken aback ; the vessel 
stopped ; then, getting sternway, the Guerriere came up, 
her bows striking the former abeam. While in this posi- 
tion, the forward guns of the enemy exploded almost 
against the sides of the Constitution, setting the cabin on 
fire. This would have proved a serious event but for the 
presence of mind of the fourth lieutenant, Beekman Yer- 
planck Hoffman, who extinguished it. As soon as the 
vessels got foul, both crews prepared to board. The first 
lieutenant, Morris, in the midst of a terrific fire of mus- 
ketry, attempted to lash the ships together, which were 
thumping and grinding against each other with the heavy 
sea, but fell, shot through the body. Mr. Alw3-n, the 
master, and Lieutenant Bush, of the marines, mounting 
the taflFrail to leap on the enemy's decks, were both shot 
down, the latter killed instantly with a bullet through the 
head. Finding it impossible to board under such a tre- 
mendous fire, the sails of the Constitution were filled, when 
the' vessels slowly and reluctantly parted. As the Consti- 
tution rolled away on the heavy swell, the foremast of the 
Guerriere fell back against the mainmast, carrying that 
down in its descent, leaving the frigate a helpless wreck, 
" wallowing in the trough of the sea." Hull, seeing that 
his enemy was now completely in his power, ran off a little 



Headley] the constitution AND GUERRIERE. 229 

way to secure bis own masts and repair his rigging, which 
■was badly cut up. In a short time he returned, and, taking 
up a position where he could rake the wreck of the Guer- 
riere at every discharge, prepai*ed to finish her. Captain 
Dacres had fought his ship well, and, when every spar in 
her was down, gallantly nailed the jack to the stump of 
the mizzen-mast. But further resistance was impossible, 
and to have gone down with his flag flying, as one of the 
English journals declared he ought to have done, would 
have been a foolish and criminal act. A few more broad- 
sides would have carried the brave crew to the bottom, 
and to allow his vessel to roll idly in the ti'ough of the 
sea, a mere target for the guns of the American, would 
neither have added to his fame nor lessened the moral 
eff'ect of his defeat. He therefore reluctantly struck her 
flag, and Lieutenant Kead was sent on board to take pos- 
session. . . . 

[On boarding the vessel the crew were found to be in a state of dis- 
gusting intoxication, Captain Dacres, on surrendering his ship, having 
told the men to go below and get some refreshments, which they liber- 
ally interpreted as a free permission to drink.] 

This vessel, as well as all the English ships, presented 
another striking contrast to the American. Impressment 
was so abhorred that British oflicers were afraid of being 
shot down by their topmen during an engagement, and 
hence dared not wear their uniforms, while ours went 
into action with their epaulettes on, knowing that it added 
to their security, for every sailor would fight for his" com- 
mander as he would for a comrade. 

Captain Hull kept hovering round his prize during the 
night ; and at two o'clock " Sail ho !" was sent aft by the 
watch, when the Constitution immediately beat to quar- 
ters. The weary sailors tumbled up cheerfully at the 
IT 20 



230 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Headley 

summons, the vessel was cleared for action, and there is 
no doubt that if another Guerriere had closed with the 
Constitution she would have been roughly handled, crip- 
pled as the latter was from her recent conflict. 

After deliberating for an hour, the stranger stood off. 
In the morning the Guerriei^e was reported to have four 
feet of water in the hold, and was so cut up that it would 
be difficult to keep her afloat. The prisoners were, there- 
fore, all removed, and the vessel set on fire. The flames 
leaped up the broken masts, ran along the bulwarks, and 
wrapped the noble wreck in a sheet of fire. As the guns 
became heated, they went off one after another, firing 
their last salute to the dying ship. At length the fire 
reached the magazine, when she blew up with a tremen- 
dous explosion. A huge column of smoke ai'ose and stood 
for a long time, as if petrified in the calm atmosphere, and 
then slowl}^ crumbled to pieces, revealing only a few shat- 
tered planks to tell where that proud vessel bad sunk. 
The first English frigate that ever struck its flag to an 
American ship of war had gone down to the bottom of 
the ocean, a gloomy omen of England's future. The sea 
never rolled over a vessel whose fate so startled the world. 
It disappeared forever, but it left its outline on the deep, 
never to be effaced till England and America are no more. 

The loss of the Constitution was seven killed and seven 
wounded, while that of the Guerriere was fifteen killed 
and sixty-four wounded, a disparity that shows with how 
much more precision the American had fired. It is im- 
possible, at this period, to give an adequate idea of the 
excitement this victory produced. In the first place, it 
was fought three days after the surrender of General 
Hull, the uncle of the gallant captain. The mortifying, 
stunning news of the disaster of the Northwestern army 
met on the seaboard the thundering shout that went up 



Heacley] the constitution AND GUERRIERE. 231 

from a people delirious with delight over this naval victor3^ 
From one direction the name of Hull came loaded with 
execrations, from the other overwhelmed with blessings. 
But not only was the joy greater, arriving as the news 
did on the top of disaster, but it took the nation by sur- 
prise. An American frigate had fearlessly stood up in 
single combat on the deep with her proud foe, and, giving 
gun for gun, torn the crown from the " mistress of the 
sea." The fact that the Constitution had four guns more 
and a larger crew could not prevent it irom being practi- 
cally an even-handed fight. The disparity of the crews 
was of no consequence, for it was an affair of broadsides, 
while the vast difference in the execution done proved 
that had the relative weight of metal and the muster-roll 
been reversed the issue would have been the same. . . . 

[This victory was but the beginning of a striking series of na\Ht 
conquests which filled England with astonishment and dismay. On 
October 25 the frigate United States met the English frigate Macedo- 
nian, and, after dismasting her and cutting her hull to pieces, forced 
her to lower her flag. About the same time the Wasp met the 
brig Frolic, of nearly her own strength, and captured her after a de8 
perate fight. On boarding the Frolic it was found that the terrible 
"hulling" fire of the Americans had killed and wounded nearly one 
hundred of her crew. On October 29 the Constitution, now under 
Commodore Bainbridge, met the frigate Java, and forced her to lower 
her flag in a two hours' fight. In the succeeding January the Hor- 
net met the English brig-of-war Peacock, and sent her to the bottom 
after a sharp battle.] 

The thrill of exultation that passed over the land at 
the announcement of the first naval victory was alloyed 
by the reflection that it was but an isolated instance, and 
hence could hardly justify a belief in our naval superiority. 
But as frigate after frigate and ship after ship struck, all 
doubt vanished, and the nation was intoxicated with de- 
light. The successive disasters that befell our land-forces 



232 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Headley 

along the Canada line could not check the outburst of 
enthusiasm on every side. As the news of one victory 
succeeding another was borne along the great channels 
of communication, long shouts of triumph rolled after it, 
and the navy, from being unknown and uncared for, rose 
at once to be the bulwark and pride of the nation. All 
faces were turned to the ocean to catch the first echo of 
those resistless broadsides that proudly asserted and made 
good the claim to " free trade and sailors' rights." Where 
■we had been insulted and wronged the most, there we 
were chastising the offender with blows that astounded 
the world. If the American government had been amazed 
at the failure of its deep-laid schemes against Canada, it 
was no less so at the unexpected triumphs at sea. Saved 
from the deepest condemnation by the navy, which it had 
neglected, forced to fall back on its very blunders for 
encouragement, it could say, with Hamlet, — 

" Let us know, 
Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well 
When our deep plots do pall." 

But our astonishment at these successive and brilliant 
victories could scarcely exceed that of the Old "World. 
The British nav}^ had been so long accustomed to victory 
that a single-handed contest of any English frigate with 
that of any other nation had ceased to be a matter of 
solicitude to her. The maritime nations of Europe had, 
one after another, 3-ielded to her sway, till her flag in every 
sea on the globe extorted the respect and fear which the 
declaration " I am a Eoman citizen" did in the proudest 
days of the Empire. Her invincibility on the ocean was 
a foregone conclusion. The victories of Napoleon stopped 
M'ith the shore: even his "star" paled on the deep. His 
extraordinary efforts and energies could not tear from the 



Headley] the constitution AND GVERRIERE. 233 

British navy the proud title it had worn so long. His 
fleets, one after another, had gone down before the might 
of British broadsides, and the sublime sea-fights of Abou- 
kir and Trafalgar were only corroborations of what had 
long been established. If this was the common feelino- of 
the Continent, it is no wonder that " the English were 
stunned as by the shock of an earthquake." The first 
victory surprised them, but did not disturb their confidence. 
They began to discuss the causes of the unlooked-for event 
with becoming dignity, but before the argument was con- 
cluded another and another defeat came like successive 
thunder-claps, till discussion gave way to alarm. The 
thoughtful men of England were too wise to pretend that 
disasters occurring in such numbers and wonderful regu- 
larity could be the result of accident, and feared they 
beheld the little black cloud which the prophet saw rising 
over the sea, portending an approaching storm. If in so 
short a time a maritime force of only a few frigates and 
sloops of war could strike such deadly blows and destroy 
the prestige of English invincibility, what could not be 
done when the navy should approximate her own in 
strength ! . , . 

The war-vessels at length grew timorous, and lost all 
their desire to meet an American ship of equal rank. It 
was declared that our frigates were built like seventy- 
fours, and therefore English frigates were justified in de- 
clining a battle when off'ered. The awful havoc made by 
our fire affected the seamen also, and whenever they saw 
the stars and stripes flaunting from the mast-head of an 
approaching vessel they felt that no ordinary battle was 
before them. English crews had never been so cut up 
since the existence of her navy. In the terrific battle of 
the Nile, Nelson lost less than three out of one hundred, 
and in his attack on CoiDcnhagen, less than four out of 
II. 20* 



234 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Roosevelt 

every hundred. In Admiral Duncan's famous action off 
Camperdown, the proportion was about the same as that 
of the Nile. In 1793 the French navy was in its glorj-, 
and the victories obtained over its single ships by English 
vessels were considered unparalleled. Yet in fourteen single 
engagements, considered the most remarkable, and in which 
the ships, with one exception, ranged from thirty-six guns 
to fifty-two, the average of killed and wounded was only 
seventeen per shij), while in four encounters with Ameri- 
can vessels, the Constitution, United States, and Wasp, 
the average was a hundred and eleven to each vessel. 

[This remarkable difference is ascribed to the fact that the Americans 
had devised an improvement in gunnery which was as yet unknown 
to the English. Their guns were sighted, and could be fired with 
remarkable accuracy of aim. " While we can fire cannon with as 
sure an aim as musketry, or almost rifles, striking twice out of every 
three shots, they must fire at random, without sight of their object or 
regard to the undulations of the sea, shooting over our heads, seldom 
hulling us or even hitting our decks." Such being the case, the strik- 
ing success of the Americans in these encounters is in great measure 
accounted for. But, whatever the cause, the "mistress of the seas" 
felt herself obliged to yield the crown of victory to an antagonist 
whom she had long affected to despise, while Europe beheld with as- 
tonishment the victorious career of the feeble navy of the New World.] 



PERRY'S VICTORY ON LAKE ERIE. 

THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 

[The successes gained by the Americans in their naval combats on 
the ocean were succeeded by similar successes on the lakes, where two 
of the most notable victories of the whole war were won. These con- 
flicts took place on the three lakes Erie, Ontario, and Champlain, on 
each of which tlie combatants had built fleets. On Lake Ontario, 



Roosevelt] FERRY H VICTORY ON LAKE ERIE. 235 

though there were several minor encounters, no important contest 
took place, while the battle of Lake Champlain occurred in the last 
year of the war. "VVe shall here, therefore, confine our attention to the 
battle of Lake Erie, which has attained a well-earned celebrity. 

At the beginning of the war there was on Lake Erie an English 
fleet of six vessels, while the only anned vessel possessed by the Amer- 
icans was lost at the fall of Detroit. This vessel was soon after retaken 
by surprise, and burned, while the Caledonia, a small brig, was cap- 
tured. In the winter of 1812 Captain Oliver Hazard Perry arrived 
and took command of the naval forces on Lake Erie. "With great 
energy he at once set himself to work to create a fleet. He purchased 
three schooners and a sloop, and built three other schooners, which 
were added to the captured brig Caledonia. Two twenty-gun brigs 
were also placed under construction in the harbor of Erie, where, in 
the midsummer of 1813, the American was blockaded by the English 
fleet, under Captain Barclay. 

Taking advantage of the temporary withdrawal of Barclay's fleet, 
and having completed his brigs. Perry managed with difficulty to 
get them over the bar at the entrance to the harbor, and to put out 
into the lake. His foes, who had returned, at once withdrew into 
port. On the 10th of September the two hostile fleets came within 
sight of each other, want of provisions having compelled Barclay to 
leave the shelter of his harbor. Perrj'-'s squadron now consisted of 
nine vessels, the twenty-gun brigs Lawrence and Niagara, the three- 
gun brig Caledonia, the schooners Ariel, Scorpion, Somers, Porcupine, 
and Tigress, and the sloop Trippe, with a crew fit for duty of about 
four hundred and sixteen men. The British fleet embraced the ships 
Detroit and Queen Charlotte, respectively of twenty and seventeen 
guns, the brig Hunter, the schooners Lady Prevost and Chippeway, 
and the sloop Little Belt, with a crew of about four hundred and forty 
men. The Americans were superior in weight of metal, and nearly 
equal in men. The description of the battle that ensued we select 
from "The Naval War of 1812," by Theodore Eoosevelt, a work 
which, while lacking vivacity of style, has the merit of greater accu- 
racy and impartiality than most works on the subject.] 

As, amid light and rather baffling winds, the American 
squadron approached the enemy, Perry's straggling line 
formed an an^le of about fifteen deforces with the more 



236 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Koosevelt 

compact one of his foes. At 11.45 the Detroit opened the 
action by a shot from her long twenty-four, which fell 
short; at 11.50 she fired a second which went crashing 
through the Lawrence, and was replied to by the Scoi'- 
pion's long thirty-two. At 11.55 the Lawrence, having 
shifted her port bow-chaser, opened with both the long 
twelves, and at meridian began with her carronades; 
but the shot from the latter all fell short. At the same 
time the action became general on both sides, though the 
rearmost American vessels were almost beyond the range 
of their own guns, and quite out of range of the guns 
of their antagonists. Meanwhile, the Lawrence was al- 
ready suffering considerably as she bore down on the 
enemy. . . , By 12.20 the Lawrence had worked down to 
close quarters, and at 12.30 the action was going on with 
gi'eat fury between her and her antagonists, within canister 
range. The raw and inexperienced American crews com- 
mitted the same fault the British so often fell into on the 
ocean, and overloaded their carronades. In consequence, 
that of the Scorpion upset down the hatchway in the 
middle of the action, and the sides of the Detroit were 
dotted with marks from shot that did not penetrate. One 
of the Ariel's long twelves also burst. Barclay fought 
the Detroit exceedingly well, her guns being most excel- 
lently aimed, though thej" actually had to be discharged 
by flashing pistols at the touch-holes, so deficient was the 
ship's equipment. Meanwhile, the Caledonia went down 
too, but the Niagara was wretchedly handled, Elliot keep- 
ing at a distance which prevented the use either of his 
own carronades or of those of the Queen Charlotte, his 
antagonist. . . . The Niagara, the most efficient and best- 
manned of the American vessels, was thus almost kept 
out of the action by her captain's misconduct. . . . 

The fio-htino: at the head of the line was fierce and 



Roosevelt] PERRrS VICTORY ON LAKE ERIE. 237 

bloody to an extraordinary degree. The Scorpion, Ariel, 
Lawrence, and Caledonia, all of them handled with the 
most determined courage, were opposed to the Chippeway, 
Detroit, Queen Charlotte, and Hunter, which were fought 
to the full as bravel3\ At such close quarters the two 
sides engaged on about equal terms, the Americans being 
superior in weight of metal and inferior in number of men. 
But the Lawrence had received such damage in working 
down as to make the odds against Perry. On each side 
almost the whole fire was directed at the opposing large 
vessel or vessels : in consequence the Queen Charlotte was 
almost disabled, and the Detroit was also frightfully shat- 
tered, especially by the raking fire of the gunboats, her 
first lieutenant, Mr. Garland, being mortally wounded, and 
Captain Barclay so severely injured that he was obliged 
to quit the deck, leaving his ship in the command of Lieu- 
tenant George Inglis. But on board the Lawrence mat- 
ters had gone even worse, the combined fire of her adver- 
saries having made the grimmest carnage on her decks. 
Of the one hundred and three men who were fit for duty 
when she began the action, eighty-three, or over four- 
fifths, were killed or wounded. The vessel was shallow, 
and the ward-room, used as a cockpit, to which the wounded 
were taken, was mostly above water, and the shot came 
through it continually, killing and wounding many men 
under the hands of the surgeon. 

The first lieutenant, Yarnall, was three times wounded, 
but kept to the deck through all ; the only other lieuten- 
ant on board. Brooks, of the marines, was mortally wounded. 
Every brace and bowline was shot away, and the brig 
almost completely dismantled ; her hull was shattered to 
pieces, many shot going completely through it, and the 
guns on the engaged side were by degrees all dismounted. 
Perry kept up the fight with splendid courage. As the 



238 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Eoosevelt 

crew fell one b}' one, the commodore called down through 
the skylight for one of the surgeon's assistants ; and this 
call was repeated and obeyed till none was left; then he 
asked, " Can any of the wounded pull a rope ?" and three 
or four of them crawled up on deck to lend a feeble hand 
in placing the last guns. Perry himself fired the last 
effective heavy gun, assisted only by the purser and chap- 
lain. A man who did not possess his indomitable spirit 
would then have struck. Instead, however, although fail- 
ing in the attack so far. Perry merely determined to win 
by new methods, and remodelled the line accordingly. 

Mr. Turner, in the Caledonia, when ordered to close, 
had put his helm up, run down on the opposing line, and 
engaged at very short range, though the brig was abso 
lutely without quarters. The Niagara had thus become 
the next in line astern of the Lawrence, and the sloop 
Trippe, having passed the three schooners in front of her, 
was next ahead. The Niagara now, having a breeze, 
steered for the head of Barclay's line, passing over a quarter 
of a mile to windward of the Lawrence, on her port beam 
She was almost uninjured, having so far taken very little 
part in the combat, and to her Perry shifted his flag. 
Leaping into a row-boat, with his brother and four sea- 
men, he rowed to the fresh brig, where he arrived at 2.30, 
and at once sent Elliot astern to hurry up the three 
schooners. The Trippe was now very near the Caledonia. 
The Lawrence, having but fourteen sound men left, struck 
her colors, but could not be taken possession of before the 
action recommenced. She drifted astern, the Caledonia 
passing between her and her foes. At 2.45, the schooners 
having closed up. Perry, in his fresh vessel, bore up to 
break Barclay's line. 

The British ships had fought themselves to a stand-still. 
The Lady Prevost was cripj^led and sagged to leeward, 



Roosevelt] PERRFS VICTORY ON LAKE ERIE. 239 

though ahead of the others. The Detroit and Queen Char- 
lotte were so disabled that they could not effectually oppose 
fresh antagonists. There could thus be but little resist- 
ance to Perry, as the Niagara bore down and broke the 
British line, firing her port guns into the Chippeway, 
Little Belt, and Lady Prevost, and the starboard ones into 
the Detroit, Queen Charlotte, and Hunter, raking on both 
sides. Too disabled to tack, the Detroit and Charlotte 
tried to wear, the latter running up to leeward of the 
former; and, both vessels having every brace and almost 
every stay shot away, they fell foul. The Niagara luffed 
athwart their bows, within half pistol-shot, keeping up a 
terrific discharge of great guns and musketry, while on 
the other side the British vessels were raked by the Cale- 
donia and the schooners so closely that some of their 
grape-shot, passing over the foe, rattled through Perry's 
spars. Nothing further could be done, and Barclay's flag 
was struck at 3 p.m., after thx"ee and a quarter hours' most 
gallant and desperate fighting. The Chippeway and 
Little Belt tried to escape, but were overtaken and 
brought to respectively by the Trippe and Scorpion, the 
commander of the latter, Mr. Stephen Champlin, firing 
the last, as he had the first, shot of the battle. " Captain 
Perry has behaved in the most humane and attentive 
manner, not only to myself and ofiicers, but to all the 
wounded," writes Captain Barclay. 

[Tlie losses in this fierce engagement were one hundred and twenty- 
three on the American side, and one hundred and thirty-five on the 
British, the great bulk of the loss falling on the Lawrence, Detroit, 
and Queen Charlotte. The daring and successful movement by which 
Perry transferred his flag from one vessel to the other during the heat 
. of the battle, traversing the lake in an open boat at the utfnost risk of 
life, is not more celebrated than his laconic despatch to General Harrison 
after the conflict, " "We have met the enemy, and they are ours," a 
battle-bulletin which vies with Ctesar's famous " Veni, vidi, viei."] 



240 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Eooskvklt 

The victory of Lake Erie was most important, both in 
its material results and in its moral effect. It gave us 
complete command of all the upper lakes, prevented any 
fears of invasion from that quarter, increased our prestige 
with the foe and our confidence in ourselves, and insured 
the conquest of Upper Canada : in all these respects its 
importance has not been overrated. But the "glory" ac- 
quired by it most certainly has been estimated at more 
than its worth. Most Americans, even the well educated, 
if asked which was the most glorious victory of the war, 
would point to this battle. Captain Perry's name is more 
widely known than that of any other commander. Every 
school-boy reads about Mm, if of no other sea-captain ; 
yet he certainly stands on a lower grade than either Hull 
or Macdonough, and not a bit higher than a dozen others. 
On Lake Erie our seamen displayed great courage and 
skill ; but so did their antagonists. The simple truth is 
that, when o-\ both sides the officers and men were equally 
brave and sKilful, the side which possessed the superiority 
in force in the proportion of three to two could not well 
help winning. The courage with which the Lawrence 
was defended has hardly ever been surpassed, and may 
fairly be called heroic ; but equal praise belongs to the 
men on board the Detroit, who had to discharge the great 
guns by flashing pistols at the touch holes, and yQ% made 
such a terribly effective defence. Courage is only one of 
the elements which go to make up the character of a first- 
class commander; something more than bravery is needed 
before a leader can be really called great. . . . 

The im]3ortant fact is that though we had nine guns 
less, yet, at a broadside, they threw half as much metal 
again as those of our antagonist. "With such odds in our 
favor it would have been a disgrace to have been beaten. 
The water was too smooth for our two brio-s to show at 



RoosEVBLT] PERRrS VICTORY ON LAKE ERIE. 241 

their best; but this veiy smoothness rendered our gun- 
boats more formidable than any of the British vessels, 
and the British testimony is unanimous that it was to 
them the defeat was primarily due. The American fleet 
came into action in worse form than the hostile squadron, 
the ships straggling badly, either owing to Perry having 
formed his line badly, or else to his having foiled to train 
the subordinate commanders how to keep their places. . . . 
The chief merit of the American commander and his fol- 
lowers was indomitable courage, and determination not to 
be beaten. This is no slight merit; but it may well be 
doubted if it would have insured victory had Barclay's 
force been as strong as Perry's. Perry made a headlong 
attack ; his superior force, whether through his fault or 
his misfortune can hardly be said, being brought into 
action in such a manner that the head of the line was 
crushed by the inferior force opposed. Being literally 
hammered out of his own ship, Perry brought up its 
powei'ful twin-sister, and the already shattered hostile 
squadron was crushed by sheer weight. The manoeuvres 
which marked the close of the battle, and which insured 
the capture of all the opposing ships, were unquestionably 
very fine. . . . 

Captain Perry showed indomitable pluck and readiness 
to adapt himself to circumstances ; but his claim to fame 
rests much less on his actual victory than on the way in 
which he prepared the fleet that was to win it. Here bis 
energy and activity deserve all praise, not only for his 
success in collecting sailors and vessels and in building the 
two brigs, but above all for the manner in which he suc- 
ceeded in getting them out on the lake. On that occasion 
he certainly outgeneralled Barclay ; indeed, the latter com- 
mitted an error that the skill and address he subsequently 
showed could not retrieve. But it will always be a source 
II.— L q 21 



242 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Roosevelt 

of sui*prise that the American public should have so glori- 
fied Perry's victory over an inferior foe, and have paid 
comparatively little attention to Macdonough's victory, 
which really was won against decided odds in ships, men, 
and metal. 

There are always men who consider it unpatriotic to 
tell the truth, if the truth is not very flattering ; but, 
aside from the morality of the case, we never can learn 
how to produce a certain effect unless we rightly know 
what the causes were that produced a similar effect in 
times past. Lake Erie teaches us the advantage of having 
the odds on our side; Lake Champlain, that, even if they 
are not, skill can still counteract them. It is amusing to 
read some of the pamphlets written " in reply" to Cooper's 
account of this battle, the writers apparently regarding 
him as a kind of traitor for hinting that the victory was 
not "Nelsonic," "unsurpassed," etc. The arguments are 
stereotyped : Perry had nine fewer guns, and also fewer 
men, than the foe. The last point is the only one respect- 
ing which there is any doubt. Taking sick and well 
together, the Americans unquestionably had the greatest 
number in crew ; but a quarter of them were sick. Even 
deducting these, they were still, in all probability, more 
numerous than their foes. . . . Yet man}^ a much-vaunted 
victory, both on sea and land, has reflected less ci-edit on 
the victor than the battle of Lake Erie did on the Ameri- 
cans. And it must always be remembered that a victory, 
honorably won, if even over a weaker foe, does reflect 
credit on the nation by whom it is gained. ... It is 
greatly to our credit that we had been enterprising enough 
to fit out such an effective little flotilla on Lake Erie ; and 
for this Perry deserves the highest praise.* 

* Some of my countrj'men will consider this but scant approbation, 
to which the answer must be that a history is not a panegyric. 



Ingersoll] the battle OF THE THAMES. 243 

THE BATTLE OF THE THAMES. 

CHARLES J. INGERSOLL, 

[The naval victory on Lake Erie was quickly followed by an equally 
decisive one on the land. General Harrison, with an army of seven 
thousand men, was at that time on the southern shore of the lake, and 
immediately after Perry's victory embarked on his fleet, and was con- 
vej^ed to the vicinity of Maiden, the central point of the British move- 
ments in the West. The disaster to their fleet seems to have demoral- 
ized the British troops, or at least to have frightened their commander, 
General Proctor, who displayed a cowardice equal to that of Hull. 
He hastily retreated from Maiden, after destroying the navy-yard and 
barracks. Tecumseh, the Indian chief, who was with him, strongly 
remonstrated against this flight, as unwise and unmilitary, but without 
success. Everything was burned that could not be carried oflf, and the 
retreat of the army was the precipitate flight of a panic-struck host, 
being conducted so rapidly that no eflTort was made to impede pursuit 
by burning bridges and obstructing roads. The story of the succeed- 
ing events we select from the " Historical Sketch of the Second War 
with Great Britain," by Charles J. Ingersoll, a member of Congress 
at that period.] 

General Harrison almost despaired of overtaking the 
fugitives. On the 27th September, 1813, he wrote to the 
Secretary of War that he would pursue them next day, 
but that there was no probability of overtaking them. 
But the Kentuckians were resolved on the revenge of, 
at any rate, a battle with their murderers at Eaisin. . . . 
They were not to be disappointed by any irresolution or 
deterred by any obstacle. Harrison, therefore, with Com- 
modore Perry, General Cass, General Green Clay, and an 
army eager for actiqn, pushed forward without delay or 
hesitation, by forced marches, over rivers, moi'asses, through 
broken countries, attended bj" some boats and water-craft ; 
continually finding Proctor's stores, provisions, ammuni- 



244 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ingersoll 

tion, and arms, either deserted by the waj^, or so weakly 
guarded, by small detachments of the enemy, as to offer 
no resistance. Seldom was flight more mismanaged than 
that of the English. . . . The whole way from Maiden to 
the Thames betrayed their extreme perturbation. . . . 

At length, on the morning of the 5th October, 1813, 
near an Indian settlement called the Moravian towns, on 
the river Thames, Harrison came up with the English, 
eight hundred regular troops under Major-G-eneral Proctor, 
and twelve hundred Indians headed by Tecumseh. By 
this time Colonel Johnson's regiment of twelve hundred 
mounted men, armed with guns, without either pistols or 
sabres, had joined General Harrison, having, by forced 
niax-ches, followed from the moment they got his orders 
to do so. . . . 

The night before the battle of the Thames, Walk-in-the- 
water, with sixty followers, deserted Proctor, and threw 
themselves in General Harrison's arms. Large quantities 
of English stores fell into our possession continuallj". Late 
at night Proctor and Tecumseh descended the river clan- 
destinely, and made a reconnoissance, with a view to 
attack Harrison, which was Tecumseh's desire, and prob- 
ably Proctor's best plan for escape ; but the English gen- 
eral did not choose to risk what would have been not only 
less dishonorable, but much safer, than the battle he was 
forced to accept. 

When all General Harrison's dispositions for attack, on 
the 5th of October, 1813, had been made, and the army 
was advancing against the enemy, well posted among 
woods, marshes, and streams, Colonel Wood, who had ap- 
proached close to the English, — concealed to reconnoitre, 
— retui-ned to General Harrison and told him that Proctor's 
men were drawn up in open lines ; that is, each man some- 
what separated from the next, instead of standing close 



Ingersoll] the battle OF THE THAMES. 245 

together, as is the strongest and safest method. With con- 
siderable felicity of prompt adaptation to cii-cumstances, 
Harrison instantl}- changed his order of attack. He in- 
quired of Colonel Johnson if his horsemen could charge 
infantr}-. "Certainly," said the colonel. His men had 
been trained and practised to charge |in the woods, just 
as they were to do. General Harrison then gave Colonel 
Johnson the order to charge; and in an instant that bat- 
talion of the mounted regiment which Colonel Richard 
Johnson committed to his brother, the lieutenant-colonel, 
James, charged through and through the English infantry, 
who then threw down their arms and cried for quarters in 
a much more craven mood than had yet been betrayed in 
that war. Their commander, after demoralizing them. by 
guilt and encumbering them with plunder, disheartened 
them by pusillanimous behavior when attacked. Colonel 
Eichard Johnson's order to charge was discretionary, to 
charge the enemy as they stood, infantry, artillery, and 
some horse. Finding that the whole of his regiment could 
hardly get at them between the river and the swamp where 
they were drawn up, while by passing the swamp he might 
reach the Indians there awaiting our onset. Colonel John- 
son, in the absence of General Harrison, exercised a judi- 
cious disci-etion to consign the first battalion of his regi- 
ment to his brother for the English, while he himself, with 
the other battalion, should attack the Indians. The Eng- 
lish infantry delivered some shots as Lieutenant-Colonel 
James Johnson approached, and for a moment disconcerted 
some of the first horses, although drilled to that mode of 
charge. But, taking a couple of vollej^s as they advanced, 
they easily recovered composui-e, rushed on the infantr}-, 
pierced, broke, then wheeled upon them, poured in a de- 
structive fire on their rear, and brought them to instanta- 
neous submission, without much loss on either side. . . . 
II. 21* 



246 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ingersoll 

Proctor, with a small escort of dragoons and mounted 
Indians, made his escape so quickly and rapidly that no 
effort could overtake him. He was pursued for many 
miles, abandoned his carriage and sword, lost all his 
plunder and papers, . . . and found his way, at last, 
through many tribulations, to Burlington Heights, there 
to be publicly rejDrimanded and disgraced for cowardice 
and avarice, by the Governor-General of Canada. The 
disaster of the British army, said an English historian, 
was not palliated by those precautions and that presence 
of mind which even in defeat reflect lustre on a com 
mander. The bridges and roads in rear of the retreating 
army were left entire, while its progress was retarded with 
a useless and cumbersome load of baggage. . . . 

Tecumseh, with his red braves, made a very differ- 
ent stand against Colonel Richard Johnson. Unlike the 
precipitate firing of the British infantry, these gallant 
savages reserved theirs till close pressed, then delivered 
volleys with deadly aim and effect. Embarrassed by the 
swamp, Colonel Johnson found it necessary to dismount 
his men. As soon as Governor Shelby heard the musketry 
from his station, the old soldier, eager for action, led up 
his men. After some time of close, sharp, and mutually 
destructive fighting, the Indians were forced to give way, 
but not without sacrificing three times as many lives as 
the English, and leaving infinitely fewer prisoners as tro- 
phies to their conquerors. Active and conspicuous, in- 
vincible and exemplary, the valiant Tecumseh fought till 
he fell pierced with several balls and died a hero's death. 
The Indian chief on whom the savage command devolved 
deplored to General Harrison, after the battle, the treach- 
erous cowardice of their father, General Proctor, by which 
term of veneration he still mentioned that recreant su- 
perior. . . . 



Ingersoll] the battle OF THE THAMES. 247 

Colonel Eichard Jolmson's task in conflict with Tecum- 
seh was much longer, bloodier, and more difficult, though 
no bolder, than his brother's vanquishing the English. 
Whether with his own hand he killed the Indian chieftain 
is among the disputed occurrences of a conflict in which 
his conduct requires no additional celebrity. He was 
repeatedly shot, and desperately wounded. . . . 

The battle of the Thames was our first regular and 
considerable victory. I have not attempted to describe 
its professional, or indeed particular, features ; that having 
been done by so many others. Truth, always difficult of 
attainment, is hardly a rudiment of narration when in- 
volving personal animosities and vanities, exacerbated b}- 
national prejudices. In fact, no one person witnesses 
much of most battles, but must be content with various 
reports from others. Hence the English proverb that 
falsehood glares on every French bulletin. . . . The result 
of the Northwestern campaign was to relieve great regions 
from English power and Indian devastation. 

[Ingersoll proceeds to say, in justice to English soldiers, " Thousands 
of hard-fought fields in every quarter and with every people of the 
world, by land and sea, attest the stubborn valor of British troops. 
No history can deny their characteristic courage and fortitude. But 
English murderers and thieves became cowards in Canada ; hard 
words, but true. To save themselves from retaliation, and their ill- 
got plunder from recapture, they laid down their arms to an inferior 
force of raw troops, while their commander fled in the first moment 
of encounter." 

During the period of the events above related, an Indian war was 
taking place in the South which was attended with the ordinary bar- 
barities of such outbreaks. Tecumseh, the bitter foe of the Americans 
and the head of the great Indian confederacy of the North, had used 
his influence to stir up the Southern tribes to war. His eflorts proved 
successful with the Creeks, who took up the hatchet and made a sud- 
den assault upon the settlements. Fort Mimms, in Alabama, in 
which many families of settlers had collected for safety, was taken by 



248 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Brackenridge 

surprise, and its inmates, numbering nearl}- three hundred men, 
women, and children, were massacred with the usual cruelty of the 
Indians. General Andrew Jackson, the commander of the Tennessee 
militia, immediately marched into the Creek country, and a series 
of battles commenced which ended in the complete subjection of the 
savages. General Coffee, with nine hundred men, surrounded a body 
of Indians at Tallusahatchee, and killed about two hundred, not a 
warrior escaping. The battles of Talladega, Autosse, Emucfau, and 
others followed, with defeat to the Indians, though with much loss to 
the Americans. The last fight took place at the Horse-Shoe Bend of 
the Tallapoosa. Here the Indian fort was carried by assault, and the 
Indians, seeing no way of escape, continued to fight until nearly all 
were slain. This broke the power of the Creeks, and they soon after 
submitted to the whites.] 



THE CHARGE AT LUNDY'S LANE. 

H. M. BRACKENKIDGE. 

[The war, during its first two years, was confined, as we have seen, 
to the Canada frontier and to naval conflicts. In the latler the Ameri- 
cans had been remarkablj^ successful. In the former the successes and 
failures were somewhat evenly balanced. Each side had invaded the 
territory of the other to some small distance, but at the opening of the 
campaign of 1814 the antagonists stood facing each other on their re- 
spective borders in much the same positions as at the opening of the 
war. There were important differences in the military situation of 
both the combatants, however, and the year 1814 was destined to be 
one of bolder movements of invasion and more effective fighting. The 
fall of Napoleon in Europe had released the armies and fleets of Eng- 
land and permitted a more energetic prosecution of the war in America. 
On the other hand, the militia of America had been converted into 
regulars by two years' experience in fighting, while the " plentiful 
lack" of the necessaries of war at the beginning of the conflict had 
been overcome sufficiently to put the American armies in efficient 
fighting condition. 



Brackenridge] the CHARGE AT LUNDY'S LANE. 249 

An act was passed increasing the regular army to sixtj'-six thousand 
men. At the same time propositions for peace were listened to, and 
commissioners appointed, consisting of John Quincy Adams, James 
A. Bayard, Henry Clay, Jonathan Russell, and, afterwards, Albert 
Gallatin. These peace sessions were held at Gottenburg, the terms 
demanded by America being a discontinuance of search and impress- 
ment, while the offer was made to exclude British seamen from Ameri- 
can vessels and to surrender deserters. 

Meanwhile, the war went on with new vigor. In the South Jack- 
son continued the conflict with the Creeks, until it was brought to a 
conclusion by his signal victory at Horse-Shoe Bend early in the year. 
In the North an effort was made to retake Mackinaw, which proved a 
failure. Wilkinson made preparations for a reinvasion of Canada, but 
suffered himself to be so easily repulsed that he was tried for want of 
generalship before a court-martial. He was acquitted by the court, 
but condemned by public opinion. 

The active work of the Northern armies was performed on the line 
of the Niagara Eiver, where the hardest fighting of the whole war 
took place. An invasion of Canada was still projected, as a prelimi- 
nary to which General Brown, in command of that division of the 
army, began operations in the section of country between Lakes Erie 
and Ontario. On the evening of July 2 he crossed the Niagara at 
Buffalo, and invested Fort Erie, which quickly surrendered. Ad- 
vancing from this point, he encountered the British force under Gen- 
eral Eiall at Chippewa Creek. 

The American advance fell behind Street's Creek, where they were 
joined by the main body on the morning of the 5th. While the 
brigade under General Scott was engaged in a dress-parade, the ad- 
vance of the British came up, and opened fire from behind the screen 
of trees that fringed the creek. Scott's men were already on the 
bridge, and as other troops were hurried up Riall's force was attacked 
with energy and effect. A furious battle ensued. The British line 
becoming somewhat separated, the exposed flank was attacked, and 
the gap widened. The line gave way before this assault, and was 
driven back in rout, Riall retreating with a part of his force to Bur- 
lington Heights, and sending the remainder to the forts at the mouth 
of the Niagara. Brown now determined to move upon Kingston by 
the lake shore, driving back the foe, and reducing the forts. But, 
failing to gain the expected co-operation from the fleet on the lake, 
and learning that Eiall had readvhnced to Queenstown and had been 



250 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Brackenridge 

reinforced by General Drummond from York, he felt compelled to 
give up his project of invasion and withdraw from his advanced posi- 
tion to Chippewa. General Winfield Scott was sent forward with a 
corps of observation, and found himself suddenly confronted by the 
whole British force, drawn up at Lundy's Lane, near Niagara Falls. 
The fiercest land-battle of the war ensued, a description of which we 
select from Bracken ridge's " History of the Late War between the 
United States and Great Britain."] 

Lieutenant-General Drummond, mortified that his 
veteran troops should have been beaten by what he consid- 
ered raw Americans, was anxious for an opportunity of re- 
trieving his credit. He had collected every regiment from 
Burlington and York, and, the lake being free, had been 
able to transport troops from Fort George, Kingston, and 
even Prescott. General Eiall took post at Queen stown 
immediately after it was abandoned by the Americans in 
their retreat to Chippewa; thence he threw a strong de- 
tachment across the Niagara to Lewistown, to threaten 
the town of Schlosser, which contained the supplies of 
General Brown, and also his sick and wounded, and at the 
same time despatched a i^arty in advance of him on the 
Niagara road. With the view of drawing otf the enemy 
from his attempt on the village across the river, General 
Brown, having no means of transporting troops to its 
defence, directed General Scott to move towards Queens- 
town with his brigade, seven hundred strong, together 
with Towson's artillery and one troop of dragoons and 
mounted men. At four o'clock in the afternoon of the 
25th, General Scott led his brigade from the camp, and, 
after j)roceeding along the Niagara about two miles and a 
half from the Chippewa, and within a short distance of 
the cataracts, discovered General Eiall on an eminence 
near Lundy's Lane, a position of great strength, where he 
had planted a battery of nine pieces of artilleiy, two of 
which were brass twenty-four-pounders. On reaching a 



Brackenridge] the CHARGE AT LUNDY'S LANE. 251 

narrow strip of woods which intervened between the 
American and the British line, Captains Harris and Pent- 
land, whose companies formed a part of the advance, and 
were first fired on, gallantly engaged the enemy. The 
latter now retreated, for the purpose of drawing the Amer- 
ican column to the post at Lundy's Lane. General Scott 
resolutely pressed forward, after despatching Major Jones 
to the commander-in-chief with intelligence that he had 
come up with the enem3\ He had no sooner cleared the 
wood, and formed in line on a plain finely adapted to mili- 
tary manoeuvres, than a tremendous cannonade commenced 
from the enemy's battery, situated on their right, which was 
returned by Captain Towson, whose artiller}^ were posted 
opposite and on the left of the American line, but without 
being able to bring his pieces to bear on the eminence. 
The action was continued for an hour, against a force 
three times that of the American brigade. The Eleventh 
and Twenty-Second Eegiments having expended their am- 
munition, Colonel Brady and Lieutenant Colonel McNeill 
being both severely wounded, and neai'ly all the other 
officers either killed or wounded, they were withdrawn 
from action. Lieutenant Crawford, Lieutenant Sawyer, 
and a few other officers of those regiments attached them- 
selves to the Ninth, in such stations as were assigned 
them. This regiment, under its gallant leader, Lieutenant- 
Colonel Leavenworth, was now obliged to bear the whole 
brunt of the action. Orders had been given him to ad- 
vance and charge on the height, and with the Eleventh 
and Twenty-Second Eegiments to break the eneni3-'s line ; 
but, on information being communicated to General Scott 
of the shattered condition of the latter, the order was 
countermanded. Colonel Jesup, at the commencement of 
the action, had been detached, with the Twenty-Fifth Eegi- 
ment, to attack the left of the enemy's line. 



252 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Brackekridge 

The British now pressed forward on the Ninth Eegi- 
ment, which with wonderful firmness withstood the attack 
of their overwhelming numbers. Being reduced at length 
to not more than one-half, and being compelled at every 
moment to resist fresh lines of the British, Colonel Leaven- 
worth despatched a messenger to General Scott to commu- 
nicate its condition. The general rode up in person, roused 
the flagging spirits of the brave men with the pleasing 
intelligence that reinforcements were expected every mo- 
ment, and besought them to hold their ground. Lieutenant 
Riddle, already well known as a reconnoitring officer, was 
the first to come to their assistance, having been drawn to 
the place by the sound of the cannon while on a scouring 
exf)edition in the neighboring country. The same circum- 
stance advised General Brown of the commencement of 
the action, and induced him to proceed rapidly to the 
scene, after giving orders to General Ripley to follow with 
the Second Brigade. He was already on his way when he 
met Major Jones, and, influenced by his communication, 
he despatched him to bring up General Porter's volunteers, 
together with the artillery. 

The situation of Scott's brigade was every moment be- 
coming more critical. Misled by the obstinacy of their 
resistance, General Riall overrated their force, and de- 
spatched a messenger to General Drummond, at Fort 
George, for reinforcements, notwithstanding that, the 
number engaged on his side, thus far, bad been more than 
double that of the Americans. During the period that 
both armies were waiting for reinforcements, a voluntary 
cessation from combat ensued ; and for a time no sound 
broke upon the stillness of the nigbt but the groans of 
the wounded, mingling with the distant thunder of the 
cataract of the Niagara. The silence was once more in- 
terrupted, and the engagement renewed with augmented 



Brackenridge] the CHARGE AT LUNDVS LANE. 253 

vigor, on the arrival of General Eipley's brigade, Major 
Hindman's artillery, and General Porter's volunteers, 
and at the same time of Lieutenant-General Drummond 
with reinforcements to the British. The artillery were 
united to Towson's detachment, and soon came into 
action ; Porter's brigade was deployed on the left, and 
Ripley's formed on the skirts of the wood, to the right 
of Scott's brigade. General Drummond took the com- 
mand in person of the front line of the enemy with his 
fresh troops. 

In the mean time, Colonel Jesup, who, as before men- 
tioned, had been ordered, at the commencement of the 
action, to take post on the right, had succeeded during 
the engagement, after a gallant contest, in turning the 
left flank of the enemy. Taking advantage of the dark- 
ness of the night, and the carelessness of the enemy in 
omitting to place a proper guard across a road on his left, 
he threw his regiment in the rear of their reserve, and, 
surpi"ising one detachment after another, made prisoners 
of so many of their officers and men that his progress 
was greatly impeded by it. The laws of war would have 
justified him in putting them to death ; " but the laurel, 
in his opinion, was most glorious when entwined by the 
hand of mercy," and he generously spared them. One of 
his officers. Captain Ketchum, who had already distin- 
guished himself at the battle of Chippewa, had the good 
fortune to make a prisoner of General Rial), who on the 
arrival of General Drummond had been assigned to the 
command of the reserve, and also of Captain Loring, the 
aide of General Drummond. The latter was a most fortu- 
nate circumstance, as it prevented the concentration of 
the British forces contemplated by that oflSeer, before the 
Americans were prepared for his reception. After has- 
tily disposing of his prisoners. Colonel Jesup felt his way 
ti. 22 



254 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Brackenridge 

through the darkness to the place where the hottest fire 
was kept up on the brigade to which he belonged, and, 
drawing up his regiment behind a fence, on one side of 
the Queenstown road, but in the rear of a party of British 
infantry posted on the opposite side of the same road, he 
surprised them by a fire so destructive that they instantly 
broke and fled. " The major," said General Brown, 
" showed himself to his own army in a blaze of fire." 
He received the applause of the general, and was ordered 
to form on the right of the Second Brigade. 

General Eipley, seeing the impracticability of operating 
upon the enemy from the place at which he had been 
ordered to post his brigade, or of advancing from it in 
line through a thick wood in the impenetrable dai'kness of 
the night, determined, with that rapid decision which 
characterizes the real commander, to adopt the only meas- 
ure by which he saw a hope of saving the First Brigade 
from destruction, or of ultimately achieving the victory, 
and which, when made known to the commander-in-chief, 
was instantly sanctioned. The eminence occupied by the 
enemy's artillery was a key to the position. Addressing 
himself to Colonel Miller, the same who had distinguished 
himself at Magagua, he inquired whether he could storm 
the battery at the head of the Twenty-First Regiment, 
Avhile he would himself support him with the younger 
regiment, the Twenty-Third. To this the war}' but in- 
trepid veteran replied, in unaffected phrase, " I will try, 
sir," — words which were afterwards worn on the buttons 
of his regiment, — and immediately prepared for the ardu- 
ous effort, by placing himself directly in front of the hill. 
The Twenty-Third was formed in close column, by its 
'commander, Major McFarland ; and the First Regiment, 
under Colonel Nicholas, which had that day arrived from 
a long and fatiguing march, was left to keep the infantry 



Brackenridge] the CHARGE AT LUNDY'S LANE. 255 

in check. The two regiments moved on to one of the 
most perilous charges ever attempted, the whole of the 
artillery, supported by the fire of a powerful line of infan- 
try, pouring upon them as they advanced. The Twenty- 
First moved on steadily to its purpose : the Twenty-Third 
faltered on receiving the deadly fire of the enemy, but 
was soon rallied by the personal exertions of General 
Eipley. When within a hundred yards of the summit, 
they received another dreadful discharge, by which Major 
McFarland was killed, and the command of his regiment 
devolved on Major Brooks. To the amazement of the 
British, the intrepid Miller firmly advanced until within a 
few paces of their cannon, when he impetuously charged 
upon the artilleries, and, after a short but desperate re- 
sistance, carried the M'hole battery, and formed his line in 
its rear, upon the ground previously occupied by the 
British infantry. In cai'rying the largest pieces, the 
Twenty-First suffered severely: Lieutenant Cilley, after 
an unexampled effort, fell wounded by the side of the 
piece which he took; and there were few of the officers 
of this regiment who were not either killed or wounded. 
By the united efforts of these two regiments, and the 
bringing into line of the First, the fate of this bold as- 
sault was determined : the British infantry were in a 
short time driven down the eminence, out of the reach 
of musketry, and their own cannon turned upon them. 
This admirable effort completely changed the nature of 
the battle : everj^ subsequent movement was directed to 
this point, as upon the ability to maintain it the result 
of the conflict entirelj^ depended. Major Hindman was 
now ordered to bring up his corps, including Captain 
Towson's detachment, and post himself, with his own and 
the captured cannon, to the right of Eipley's brigade, and 
between it and the Twenty-Fifth, Jesup's regiment, while 



256 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Brackenridge 

the volunteers of General Porter retained their position 
on the left of Scott's brigade. 

Stung with rage and mortification at this most extraor- 
dinary and successful exploit of the Americans, General 
Drummond, the British commander, now considered it 
absolutely essential to the credit of tlae British army, and 
to avoid insupportable disgrace, that the cannon and the 
eminence on which they were captured should be retaken. 
Having been greatly reinforced, he advanced upon Eipley 
with a heavy and extended line, outflanking him on both 
extremes. The Americans stood silently awaiting his ap- 
proach, which could only be discovered by the sound at- 
tending it, reserving their fire, in obedience to orders, until 
it could be effective and deadly. The whole division of 
the British now marched at a brisk step until within 
twenty paces of the summit of the height, when it poui-ed 
in a rapid fire and prepared to rush forward with the 
bayonet. The American line, being directed by the fire 
of the enemy, returned it with deadly effect. The enemy 
were thereby thrown into momentaiy confusion, but, being 
rallied, returned furiously to the attack. A most tremen- 
dous conflict ensued, which for twenty minutes continued 
with violence indescribable. The British line was at last 
compelled to yield, and to retire down the hill. In this 
struggle General Porter's volunteers emulated the conduct 
of the regulars. The gallant Major Wood, of the Penn- 
eylvania corps, and Colonel Dobbin, of the New York, 
gave examples of unshaken intrepidity. 

It was not supposed, however, that this would be the 
last effort of the British general. General Eipley, there- 
fore, had the wounded transported to the rear, and in- 
stantly restored his line to order. General Scott's shat- 
tered brigade, having been consolidated into one battalion, 
had during this period been held in reserve behind the 



Brackenridge] the CHARGE AT LUNDTS LANE. 257 

Second Brigade, under Colonel Leavenworth, Colonel 
Brady having been compelled, b}- the severity of his 
wound, to resign the command. It was now ordered to 
move to Lundy's Lane, and to form with its right towards 
the Niagara road and its left in the rear of the artillery. 

After the lapse of half an hour. General Drummond 
was heard again advancing to the assault with renovated 
vigor. The direction at first given by General Eipley was 
'igain observed. The fire of the Americans was dreadful ; 
and the artilleiy of Major Hindman, which was served 
with great skill and coolness, would have taken away all 
heart from the British for this perilous enterpi-ise, had not 
an example of bravery been set them by the Americans. 
After the first discharge, the British general threw him- 
self with his entire weight upon the centre of the Ameri- 
can line. He was firmly received by the gallant Twenty- 
First Eegiment, a few platoons only faltering, which were 
soon restored by General Ripley. Finding that no im- 
pression could be made, the whole British line again re- 
coiled, and fell back to the bottom of the hill. During 
this second contest two gallant charges were led by Gen- 
eral Scott in person, the first upon the enemy's left and 
the second on his right flank, with his consolidated bat- 
talion ; but, having to oppose double lines of infantry, his 
attempts, which would have been decisive had they proved 
successful, were unavailing. Although he had most fortu- 
nately escaped unhurt thus far, subsequent!}', in passing 
to the right, he received two severe wounds : regai'dless 
of himself, however, he did not quit the field until he had 
directed Colonel Leavenworth to unite his battalion with 
the Twenty-Fifth Eegiment, under the command of Colonel 
Jesup. 

Disheartened by these repeated defeats, the British were 
on the point of yielding the contest, when they received 
11.— r 22* 



258 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Brackenridge 

fresh reinforcements from Fort G-eorge, which revived 
their spirits and induced them to make another and still 
more desperate struggle. After taking an hour to refresh 
themselves and recover from their fatigue, they advanced 
with a still more extended line, and with confident hopes 
of being able to overpower the Americans. Our country- 
men, who had stood to their arms during all this time, 
were worn down with fatigue, and almost fainting with 
thirst, which there was no water at hand to quench. From 
the long interval which had elapsed since the second attack, 
they had begun to cherish hopes that the enemy had aban- 
doned a further attempt; but in this they were disap- 
pointed. On the approach of the British for the third 
time, their courageous spirit returned, and they resolved 
never to yield the gloinous trophies of their victory until 
they could contend no longer. The British delivered their 
fire at the same distance as on the preceding onsets. But, 
although it was returned with the same deadly effect, they 
did not fall back with the same precipitation as before ; 
they steadily advanced, and repeated their discharge. A 
conflict, obstinate and dreadful beyond description, ensued. 
The Twenty-First, under its brave leader, firmly withstood 
the shock ; and, although the right and left repeatedly fell 
back, they were as often rallied by the personal exertions 
of the general, and Colonels Miller, Nicholas, and Jesup. 
At length the two contending hnes w^ere on the very sum- 
mit of the hill, where the contest was waged with terrific 
violence at the point of the bayonet. Such was the obsti- 
nacy of the conflict that many battalions, on both sides, 
were forced back, and the opposing parties became mingled 
with each other. Nothing could exceed the desperation 
of the battle at the point where the cannon were stationed. 
The enemy having forced themselves into the very midst 
of Major Hindman's artillery, he was compelled to engage 



Brackenridge] the CHARGE AT LUNDY'S LANE. 25i> 

them across the carriages and guns and at last to spike 
two of his pieces. General Eipley, having brought back 
the broken sections to their positions and restored the line, 
now pressed upon the enemy's flanks and compelled them 
to give wa}". The centre soon following the examj^le, and 
the attack upon the artillery being at this moment repulsed, 
the whole British line fled a third time ; and no exertions 
of their officers could restrain them until they had placed 
themselves out of reach of the musketry and artillery. 
The British now consented to relinquish their cannon, and 
retired beyond the borders of the field, leaving their dead 
and wounded. 

General Brown had received two severe wounds at the 
commencement of the last charge, and was compelled to 
retire to the camp at the Chippewa, leaving the command 
to General Eipley. The latter officer had made repeated 
eff'orts to obtain the means of removing the captured artil- 
lery ; but, the horses having been killed, and no drag-ropes 
being at hand, they were still on the place where they had 
been captured, when orders were received from General 
Brown to collect the wounded and return to camp imme- 
diately. The British cannon were therefore left behind, 
the smaller pieces having first been rolled down the hill. 
The whole of the troops reached the camp in good order 
about midnight, after an unmolested march. 

[The British force engaged in this battle amounted to nearly five 
thousand men, the American to about two-thirds that number. The 
losses were severe, being eight hundred and seventy-eight men on the 
British and eight hundred and fifty-one on the American side, the pro- 
portion of officers killed and wounded being unusually large. After 
the battle the army was compelled to fall back to the camp on the 
Chippewa, for want of food and water. The enemy claimed the vic- 
tory, on the plea of being left in occupation of the field. Eipley was 
severely blamed for not bringing off" the guns captured by Miller, and 
for a subsequent retreat to Fort Erie before the advancing British, with 



260 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossinq 

what seemed unnecessary haste. He was, in consequence, removed 
from his command, which was given to General Gaines. Drummond 
followed the retiring Americans to Fort Erie, and made a midnight 
assault upon it, on August 14. This effort proved a disastrous failure, 
costing him nearly a thousand men. He then began a regular siege 
of the fort, and brought his works so close that shells and hot shot were 
thrown daily into it. Drummond's camp was two miles in the rear, a 
third of his force being sent each day to work in the parallels. Gen- 
eral Brown, who had sufficiently recovered from his wound received 
at Lundy's Lane to resume command, sent out, on September 17, a 
sudden sortie of two thousand men, which fell upon the British work- 
ing-party, dismounted the guns, destroyed the works they had been 
forty-seven days in making, and drove them back with a loss of nine 
hundred men. This so disheartened Drummond that he abandoned 
the siege. Shortly afterwards the Americans destroj-ed Tort Erie and 
returned to their own soil. Thus ended the campaign on the Niagara, 
with no permanent advantage gained by either party.] 



THE CAPTURE AND BURNING OF WASHINGTON 

BENSON J. LOSSING. 

[The final year of the war was distinguished by a greater invasive 
energy of the British forces than had previously characterized them. 
The American territory was entered at three different points, by way 
of Lake Champlain, of Chesapeake Bay, and of the Mississippi. The 
Northern movement was conducted by Sir George Prevost, who de- 
signed to follow the pathway so often adventured in preceding wars, 
and to penetrate New York at least as far as Crown Point. Chance 
favored his design, for the greater part of the garrison of Plattsburg 
was removed, late in August, to relieve General Brown at Port Erie. 
General Macomb was left at Plattsburg with about twenty-five hun- 
dred men. To these he added reinforcements of three thousand militia 
on learning of Prevost's invasion. This was a small force to meet the 
army of fourteen thousand men with which Prevost advanced along 
the shores of the lake. There accompanied him four ships and twelve 



LossiNGj THE CAPTURE OF WASHINGTON. 261 

barges, under Captain Downie, with which he designed to master the 
American fleet on the lake. He did not dare leave this intact to 
threaten his communications. 

The American fleet consisted of ten gunboats and four larger ves- 
sels, under the command of Lieutenant Thomas Macdonough. These 
lay in the harbor at Plattsburg, near the fortifications which the 
Americans had constructed on the small peninsula at that point. 
Prevost proposed to take the fort by an attack from the rear, while 
Downie with the fleet should assail the American ships. He had little 
doubt of victory, not foreseeing how sturdy an antagonist he was des- 
tined to find in the youthful commander of the American fleet, or with 
what courage his attack on the small redoubts at Plattsburg would be 
repulsed. 

On September 11 the British flotilla rounded Cumberland Head, 
and attacked the ships in the harbor, while simultaneously the troops 
on shore attempted to cross the Saranac River and assail the fort. 
Macdonough had drawn up his four vessels in line across the mouth 
of the harbor, with the gunboats inside and opposite the intervals 
between the larger vessels. The brunt of the battle was between the 
English flag-ship Confiance and the Saratoga on the American side. 
The first broadside from the Confiance struck down fortj' men on the 
Saratoga, and eventually every gun of her starboard battery was dis- 
abled. But Macdonough had prepared for this, and had laid out 
kedges by which he now swung his ship round and presented her lar- 
board battery at his antagonist. The Confiance attempted the same 
manoeuvre, but without success, and the raking fire which she received 
soon compelled her to strike her colors. The fight with the remainder 
of the fleet was equally successful for the Americans. Most of the 
galleys drifted out into the lake and escaped, but the other vessels of 
the fleet were forced to surrender. 

The victory on the lake was complete. Meanwhile, Prevost had not 
succeeded in crossing the Saranac in face of the American fire. On 
perceiving the loss of his fleet he desisted, recalled his troops, and 
gave up his project of invading New York. The gallant Macdonough/ 
with a much smaller force in men and guns than his antagonist, had 
by his skilful dispositions and brave defence won an important victory 
and completely disconcerted a deep-laid scheme of invasion. 

During this same period an attack was made on the capital city of 
Washington, which resulted disastrously to the Americans, and in a 
shameful instance of vandalism on the part of the British commanders. 



262 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossino 

During the summer the whole coast had been kept in a state of 
alarm by the British fleet, which had been largely reinforced, in con- 
sequence of the close of the war in Europe. Several places were 
taken, and many depredations committed on the coast, the only suc- 
cessful resistance being at Stonington, Connecticut. This town was 
bombarded for three days, fifty tons of iron in missiles being thrown 
into it. Yet it was so gallantly defended by about twenty men with 
two or three old guns that the fleet was finally forced to withdraw, with 
a loss of seventy men, while the loss of the defenders was only seven 
men wounded. Farther south the fleet of Admiral Cockburn for 
more than a year had harassed the coast of the Middle States, sending 
expeditions to plunder helpless villages or destroy plantations, without 
excuse or warrant in the laws of war. In August, General Eoss, with 
thirty-five hundred veterans from Wellington's army, arrived in the 
Chesapeake and landed at Benedict on the Patuxent, forty miles below 
"Washington. He was joined by one thousand marines from Cock- 
burn's squadron. Though there was reason to expect some such 
movement, no efficient preparation had been made for it. The only 
immediately available force was about five hundred regulars and two 
thousand militia, under General Winder. The progress of the in- 
vaders might have been easily stayed had the roads been obstructed by 
fallen trees, but no such steps were taken. Barney's fleet of gunboats 
was given to the flames, and Winder retreated to Bladensburg, where 
he drew up his small army in a commanding position, behind the creek 
at that point, and on hills in the rear. From Lossing's " Field-Book 
of the War of 1812" we select a description of the succeeding events.] 

Such was the disposition of Windei-'s little army when, 
at noon, the enemy were seen descending the hills beyond 
Bladensburg and pressing on toward the bridge. At half- 
past twelve they were in the town, and came within range 
of the heavy guns of the first American line. The British 
commenced hurling rockets at the exposed Americana, 
and attempted to throw a heavy force across the bridge, 
but were driven back by their antagonists' cannon and 
forced to take shelter in the village and behind Lowndes's 
Hill, in the rear of it. Again, after due preparation, they 
advanced in double-quick time ; and, when the bridge was 



LossiNG] THE CAPTURE OF WASHINGTON. 263 

crowded with them, the artillery of Winder's first and 
second lines opened upon them with terrible effect, sweep- 
ing down a whole company. The concealed riflemen, 
under Pinkney, also poured deadly volleys into their 
exposed ranks; but the British, continually reinforced, 
pushed gallantly forward, some over the bridge, and some 
fording the stream above it, and fell so heavily upon the 
first and unsupported line of the Americans that it was 
compelled to fall back upon the second. A company, 
whose commander is unnamed in the reports of the battle, 
were so panic-stricken that they fled after the first fire, 
leaving their guns to fall into the hands of the enemy. 

The first British brigade was now over the stream, and, 
elated by their success, did not wait for the second. They 
threw away their knapsacks and haversacks, and pushed 
up the hill to attack the American second line in the face 
of an annoying fire from Captain Burch's artillery. They 
weakened their force by stretching out so as to form a 
front equal to that of their antagonists. It was a blunder 
which Winder quickly perceived and took advantage of. 
He was then at the head of Sterett's regiment. With 
this and some of Stansbury's mihtia, who behaved gal- 
lantly, he not only checked the enemy's advance, but, at 
the point of the bayonet, pressed their attenuated line so 
strongly that it fell back to the thickets on the brink of 
the riVer, near the bridge, where it maintained its position 
most obstinately until reinforced by the Second Brigade. 
Thus strengthened, it again pressed forward, and soon 
turned the left flank of the Americans, and at the same 
time sent a flight of hissing rockets over and very near 
the centre and right of Stansbury's line. The frightened 
regiments of Sehutz and Eagan broke, and fled in the 
wildest confusion. Winder tried to rally them, but m vain. 
Sterett's corps maintained their ground gallantly until the 



264 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossing 

enemy had gained both their flanivs, when Winder ordered 
them and the supporting artillery to retire up the hill. 
They, too, became alarmed, and the retreat, covered by 
riflemen, was soon a disorderly flight. 

The first and second line of the Americans having been 
dispersed, the British, flushed with success, pushed for- 
ward to attack the third. Peter's artillery annoj'ed but 
did not check them ; and the left, under the gallant Colo- 
nel Thornton, soon confronted Barney, in the centre, who 
maintained his position like a genuine hero, as he was. 
His eighteen-pounders enfiladed the Washington road, and 
with them he swept the highway with such terrible eff'eet 
that the enemy filed off into a field and attempted to 
turn Barney's right flank. There they were met by three 
twelve-pounders and marines under Captains Miller and 
Sevier, and were badly cut up. They were driven back 
to the ravine already mentioned as the duelling-ground, 
leaving several of their wounded ofiicers in the hands of 
the Americans. Colonel Thornton, who bravely led the 
attacking column, was severely wounded, and General 
Eoss had his horse shot under him. 

The flight of Stansbury's troops left Barney unsupported 
in that direction, while a heavy column was hurled against 
Beall and his militia, on the right, with such force as to 
disperse them. The British light troops soon gained po- 
sition on each flank, and Barney himself was severely 
wounded near a living fountain of water on the estate of 
the late Mr. Eives, which is still known as Barney's Spring. 
When it became evident that Minor's Virginia troops could 
not arrive in time to aid the gallant flotilla-men, who were 
obstinately maintaining their position against fearful odds, 
and that further resistance would be useless, Winder or- 
dered a general retreat. The commodore, too severely 
hurt to be moved, became a prisoner of war, but was im- 



LossiNQ] THE CAPTURE OF WASHINGTON. 265 

mediately paroled by General Eoss, and sent to Bladena- 
burg after his wound was dressed by a British surgeon. 
There he was joined by his wife and son and his own sur- 
geon, and on the 27th was conveyed to his farm at Elk- 
ridge, in Mai-yland. The great body of Americans who 
were not dispersed retreated toward Montgomery Court- 
House, in Maryland, leaving the battle-field in full posses- 
sion of the enemy, and their way to the national capital 
unobstructed except by the burning of the two bridges 
over the eastern branch of the Potomac. The Americans 
lost twenty-six killed and fifty-one wounded. The Bi'itish 
Joss was manifold greater. According to one of their offi- 
cers who was in the battle, and jQt living (Mr. Gleig, 
Chaplain-General of the British army), it was "upward 
of five hundred killed and wounded," among them " sev- 
eral officers of rank and distinction." The battle com- 
menced at about noon, and ended at four o'clock. 

Up to this time the conduct of the British had been in 
accordance with the rules of modern warfare. Now they 
abandoned them, and on entering the national capital they 
performed deeds worthy only of barbarians. In a procla- 
mation issued by the President on the 1st of September 
he submitted the following indictment : " They wantonly 
destroyed the public edifices, having no relation in their 
structure to operations of war, nor used at the time for 
military annoyance ; some of these edifices being also 
costly monuments of taste and of the arts, and others 
depositories of the public archives, not only precious to 
the nation as the memorials of its origin and its early 
transactions, but interesting to all nations as contributions 
to the general stock of historical instruction and political 
science." Let us briefly examine the testimony of history. 

When Eoss was assured of complete victory, he halted 
his army a short time on the field of battle, and then, 
II.— M 23 



266 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossinq 

with the fresh Third Brigade, which had not been in the 
conflict, he crossed the Eastern Branch Bridge. Assured 
of the retreat of the Americans beyond Georgetown, Eoss 
left the main body a mile and a half from the Capitol, and 
entered the town, then containing about nine hundred 
buildings. He came to destroy the public property there. 
It was an errand, it is said, not at all coincident with his 
taste or habits, and what was done by him appears to have 
been performed as hun-uinely as the orders of his superiors 
would allow. When, on his arrival in the Chesapeake, he 
had been informed by Admiral Cochrane that he (the ad- 
miral) had been urged by Sir George Prevost, the Gov- 
ernor-General of Canada (who was not satisfied with the 
terrible devastation of the Niagara frontier at the close of 
1813), to retaliate in kind uj^on the Americans for the de- 
struction of the government buildings at York and the 
village of Newark, he demurred, saying that they had 
carried on the war on the Peninsula and in France with a 
very different spirit, and that he could not sanction the 
destruction of public or private property, with the ex- 
ception of militaiy structures and warlike stores. " It 
was not," says one of Ross's surviving aides, Sir Duncan 
McDougall, in a letter to the author in 1861, " until he was 
warmly pressed that he consented to destroy the Capitol 
and President's house, for the purpose of preventing a 
repetition of the uncivilized proceedings of the troops of 
the United States." Fortunately for Eoss's sensibility, 
there was a titled incendiary at hand in the person of 
Admiral Sir George Cockburn, who delighted in such 
inhuman work, and who literal!}' became his torch-bearer. 
The bulk of the invaders, having ci'ossed the Eastern 
Branch, halted upon the plain between the Capitol and the 
site of the Congressional Burying-Ground, when General 
Eoss, accompanied by Cockburn and a guard of two bun- 



LossiNG] THE CAPTURE OF WASHINGTON. 267 

dred men, rode into the cit}- at eight o'clock in the even- 
ing. They were fired upon from behind the house of 
Robert Sewell, near the Capitol, by a single musket, and 
the horse on which the general was riding was killed. 
Mr. Sewell's house was immediately destroyed. The same 
fate awaited the materials in the office of the National In- 
telligencer, the government organ, whose strictures on the 
brutality of Cockburn had filled that marauder with hot 
anger. These, and some houses on Capitol Hill, a large 
rope-walk, and a tavern, comprised the bulk of private 
property desti'oyed, thanks to the restraining power of 
General Ross. Several houses and stores were also plun- 
dered. The unfinished Capitol, in which was the library 
of Congress, the President's house, a mile distant, the 
Treasury buildings, the Arsenal, and barracks for almost 
three thousand troops, were soon in flames, whose light 
was plainly seen in Baltimoi'e, about forty miles north- 
ward. In the course of a few hours nothing of the superb 
Capitol and the Presidential mansion was left but their 
smoke-blackened walls. Of the public buildings only the 
Patent Office was saved. 

All the glory that the British had won on the battle- 
field was lost in this barbarian conflagration. " Willingly," 
said the London Statesman newspaper, "would we throw 
a veil of oblivion over our transactions at Washington. 
The Cossacks spared Paris, but we spared not the capital 
of America." The British Annual Register for 1814 de- 
nounced the proceedings as a " return to the times of bar- 
barism." " It cannot be concealed," the writer continued, 
"that the extent of devastation practised by the victors 
brought a heavy censure upon the British character, not 
only in America, but on the continent of Europe." Con- 
tinental writers and speakers condemned the act in un- 
measured terms ; and yet the government of England, 



268 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossixo 

which had seldom represented the sentiments of the people, 
caused the Tower guns to be fired in honor of Boss's vic- 
tory, thanked the actors through Parliament, decreed a 
monument to that general in Westminster Abbey at his 
death, and, making additions to his armorial bearings, 
authorized his descendants forever to style themselves 
" Eoss of Bladensburg" ! 

While the public buildings in Washington were in flames, 
the national shipping, stores, and other property were 
blazing at the navy-yard ; also the great bridge over the 
Potomac, from Washington City to the Virginia shore. 
Commodore Thomas Tingey was in command of the navy- 
yard, and, before the battle, had received orders to set fire 
to the public property there in the event of the British 
gaining a victory, so as to prevent its falling into the 
hands of the invaders. Tingey delayed the execution of 
the order for four hours after the contingency had oc- 
curred. When, at half-past eight in the evening, he was 
informed that the enemy was encamped within the city 
limits, near the Capitol, he applied the torch, and property 
valued at about a million of dollars was destroyed. The 
schooner Lj^nx was saved, and most of the metallic work 
at the navy-yard remained but little injured. The fine 
naval monument [to the officers who fell at Tripoli] was 
somewhat mutilated, but whether accidentally at the time 
of the conflagration, or wantonly by the British, who went 
there the next day to complete the destructive work, 
is an unsettled question. At the same time, the Long 
Bridge over the Potomac was fired at both ends. The 
Americans on the Virginia side thought a large body of 
British troops were about to pass over, and fired that end 
to foil them, while the British on the city side, perceiving, 
as they thought, a large body of Americans about to cross 
over from the Virginia side, fired the Maryland end of the 



LossiNQ] THE CAPTURE OF WASHINGTON. 269 

bridge. The value of the entire amount of property de- 
stroyed at Washington by the British and Americans was 
estimated at about two million dollars. The walls of the 
Capitol and President's house stood firm, and were used in 
rebuilding. 

President Madison, and other civil oflScers who M'ent out 
to see the fight and give such assistance as they might, 
remained on the field until Barney fell, when they fled to 
the city as fast as swift-footed horses could carry them, 
and were among the first to announce the startling intelli- 
gence that the British, victorious, were probably marching 
on the town. Mrs. Madison had already been apprised of 
the danger. When the flight of Congreve rockets caused 
the panic-stricken militia to fly, the President sent mes- 
sengers to inform her that the defeat of the Americans 
and the capture of the city seemed to be promised, and to 
advise her to fly to a place of safety. These messengers 
reached her between two and three o'clock. Mrs. Madison 
ordered her carriage, and sent a^vaf in a wagon silver plate 
and other valuables, to be deposited in the Bank of Mary- 
land. She anxiously waited for her husband, and in the 
mean time took measures for preserving the full-length 
portrait of Washington, painted by Stuart, which hung 
in the Presidential mansion. Finding the process of un- 
screwing the frame from the wall too tedious for the exi- 
gency, she had it broken in pieces, and the picture removed 
with the "stretcher," or light frame on which the canvas 
was nailed. This she did with her own hands. Just 
as she had accomplished so much, two gentlemen from 
New York, one of whom was the now [1867] venerable 
New Orleans banker, Jacob Barker, entered the room. 
The picture was lying on the floor. The sounds of ap- 
proaching troops were heard. They might be the in- 
vaders, who would be delighted by the possession of so 
II. 23* 



270 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossinq 

notable a captive as the beautiful wife of the President. 
It was time for her to fly. " Save that picture," she said 
to Mr. Barker and Mr. R. Gr. L. De Peyster, his companion, 
— "save that picture, if possible; if not possible, destroy 
it: under no circumstances allow it to fall into the hands 
of the British." Then, snatching up the precious parch- 
ment on which was written the Declaration of Indepen- 
dence and the autographs of the signers, which she had 
resolved to save also, she hastened to the carriage with 
her sister (Mrs. Cutts) and her husband and two servants, 
and was borne away to a place of safety beyond the 
Potomac. 

Just as Barker and De Pej-ster had taken the picture 
from the stretcher and rolled it uj), a portion of the flying 
American army came up, and halted in front of the Presi- 
dent's house. Some refreshments were given to them, 
when they marched up toward Montgomery Court-House, 
the appointed place of rendezvous for the broken army, 
followed by those gentlemen with the picture. They left 
it in charge of a farmer in whose house the}' lodged that 
night, and a few weeks afterward Mr. Barker restored the 
portrait to Mrs. Madison. It now hangs upon the wall in 
the Blue Eoom of the Presidential mansion. 

It was not the design of the British to hold the territory 
which they had, unexpectedly to themselves, acquired. 
Indeed, the whole movement up the Chesapeake was 
originally intended as a feint, — a menace of Baltimore and 
Washington, to engage the attention of the government 
and people, and to draw in that direction the militar}' 
force of the country, while the far more important measure 
of invadinsc Louisiana with a formidable force and taking 
possession of the Mississippi Valley should be matured 
and executed. Accordingly, when Winder's forces were 
defeated and routed, the President and his Cabinet driven 



LossiNG] THE CAPTURE OF WASHIXGTOy. 271 

from the national capital, and the public buildings de- 
stroj'ed, the invaders retreated precipitately", evidentl}^ in 
the fear of a reactive blow. While the British cabinet, 
judging from metropolitan influence in liluropean coun- 
tries, were disposed to believe that, with the loss of their 
capital, the Americans would consider all gone, and would 
yield in despair to their victors, those conquerors, on the 
spot, saw too well the danger to be apprehended from the 
spirit of a people aroused to greater exertions, and with 
more united energy, because of that very misfortune. 

Impressed with a sense of this danger, Eoss and Coch- 
rane moved away with their forces with great secrecy on 
the night of the 25th of August, after ordering every in- 
habitant of Washington to remain within-doors from sun- 
set to sunrise, on pain of death, and increasing their camp- 
fires, so as to deceive the Americans. It was immediately 
after the passage of a terrific tempest of wind, lightning, 
and rain, during which houses were unroofed and ti*ees 
were uprooted. Softly these victors stole away in the 
gloom. " No man spoke above his breath," says one of 
the British officers who was present. " Our very steps 
were planted lightly, and we cleared the town without 
exciting observation." At midnight, just as the moon 
arose and cast a pale light over the scenes, they passed 
the battle-field and Bladensburg, leaving their dead un- 
buried, and full ninety of their wounded to the humanity 
of Commodoi-e Barney and his men. It was humiliating 
to the British troops thus to steal away in the dark from 
the field of their conquest. They moved sullenly onward, 
so wearied with fatigue and loss of sleep that Avhen the 
columns halted for a few minutes the roads would be filled 
with sleeping soldiers. At seven o'clock in the morning, 
finding themselves but little annoyed by pursuers, they 
halted for rest and refreshments for several hours. At 



272 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gleiq 

noon they moved forward, encamped at Marlborough, and, 
marching leisurely, reached Benedict on the 29th, where 
they embarked on the transports the next day. 

[This invasion was followed by a similar one directed against Balti- 
more. On September 6 Cochrane's fleet sailed up the Chesapeake, 
and entered the Patapsco on the 11th. Nine thousand men were 
landed at North Point, twelve miles below Baltimore. They found 
their task more difficult than that at Washington. General Boss was 
mortally wounded by a sharp-shooter, and for three hours the British 
were successfully resisted by three thousand volunteers, under General 
Strieker. Finally their right wing was turned, and they were forced 
to fall back. The invaders followed on the next day, but, finding 
their opponents reinforced and strongly posted, they did not venture 
on an attack, but withdrew in the darkness of the ensuing night. 

Meanwhile, the fleet for twenty-four hours bombarded Fort Mc- 
Henry and the adjoining intrenchments, from a distance beyond the 
reach of the guns of the fort. At night the fleet landed a force to 
attack the forts in the rear. It was met, however, with a shower of 
red-hot shot, and forced to retreat with severe loss. This ended the 
effort, and Cochrane retired with the fleet and army.] 



THE DEFENCE OF NEW ORLEANS. 

G. R. GLEIG. 

[As a preliminary to the subject of this article a review of the prin- 
cipal naval events of the years 1813 and 1814 may be given. Many 
desperate ocean-fights took place during these years, though not with 
the uniform success for the Americans of those of 1812. The confiict 
between the Hornet and the Peacock, on February 24, 181.3, we have 
already mentioned. On June 1, the Chesapeake, lying in Boston har- 
bor, accepted the challenge to battle of the British frigate Shannon, 
and put to sea, though in no proper condition for fighting. In the 
battle that ensued the Chesapeake suffered severely ; all her higher offi- 
cers were killed and wounded, Lawrence, the captain, being mortally 



Gleig] the defence OF NEW ORLEANS. 273 

wounded early in the action. His dying words, " Don't give up the 
ship," were afterwards displayed on Captain Perry's standard in the 
battle of Lal:e Erie, and have become the motto of the American 
navy. The Chesapeake was, after being disabled, boarded and forced 
to surrender. In August the British brig Pelican captured the Ameri- 
can brig Argus, which had previously captured more than twenty ves- 
sels in the English Channel. In September the Americans gained a 
naval victory, the brig Enterprise capturing the brig Boxer, after a 
severe battle of forty minutes' duration. During the summer the 
frigate Essex, under Captain Porter, cruised in the Pacific, and cap- 
tured a great number of British vessels. Early in the succeeding year 
she was attaclced in the harbor of Valparaiso by the frigate Phoebe and 
the sloop Cherub, the two being superior to her in force. The Essex 
was desperately defended, and did not yield till almost cut to pieces. 

During the year the ocean swarmed with American privateers, which 
occasionally did not hesitate to attack war-vessels. The privateer De- 
catur captured the war-schooner Dominica, and the fishing-smack 
Yankee, with forty men, surprised and captured, ofi" Sandy Hook, the 
sloop-of-war Eagle. In March, 1813, the blockade of the coast was 
extended from Montauk Point, Long Island, to the mouth of the Mis- 
sissippi, tliough the British squadron under Admiral Warren was in- 
adequate to make this more than a " paper blockade." The Macedo- 
nian, United States, and Hornet were chased into New London harbor 
by a British squadron, and so diligently blockaded that they were not 
able to put to sea again. Meanwhile, Admiral Cockburn, Warren's 
second in command, raided the coast from Delaware to North Carolina, 
making piratical descents and destroying the property of the defence- 
less inhabitants with cruel and useless barbarity. 

In 1814 the American navy achieved some brilliant successes. The 
sloop Peacock captured the brig Epervier, while the Wasp captured 
the Eeindeer and sunk the Avon. The privateer General Armstrong 
was attacked in the port of Fayal by a British fleet, and an attempt 
made to cut her out by boats. The result was disastrous to her ene- 
mies, who were driven off with a loss of one hundred and twenty killed 
and ninety wounded, while the loss on the privateer was only two killed 
and nine wounded. Seeing that it would be impossible to save her, 
the captain and crew left the Armstrong, setting her on fire, and took 
refuge in a deserted convent on shore, in anticipation of an attack. 
This, however, the protest of the authorities prevented the British 
from making. Several hard-fought naval battles took place after peace 
II. — s 



274 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gleig 

was declared, but before the ships at sea could be informed of this fact. 
The President fought the Endymion to a wreck, but before she could 
take possession of her as a prize she was herself captured by a British 
squadron. In February, 1815, the Constitution captured the Cyane 
and Levant off the island of Madeira, and in March the Hornet cap- 
tured the Penguin off the coast of Brazil. In both these cases the 
captured vessels were stronger than their captors. 

In addition to these naval contests, one of the most notable land- 
battles of the war, that of New Orleans, was fought after the declara- 
tion of peace. This severe conflict we may more particularly describe. 
After the destruction of Washington and the assault on Baltimore, the 
British fleet sailed south, and in December appeared off Pensacola, 
which city General Jackson had previously taken by storm and pre- 
vented its being made a harbor for British ships of war. As it ap- 
peared that an attack on New Orleans was intended, Jackson hastened 
to this city. Here he found the utmost confusion and alarm prevail- 
ing. By stringent exertions, however, order was restored, the militia 
organized, fortifications built, and finally mai'tial law proclaimed. 
On December 10 the British fleet entered Lake Borgne, where a squad- 
ron of gunboats was captured. After much difficulty, a portion of the 
British army reached the Mississippi at a point nine miles below New 
Orleans, where, on the 23d of December, a night-attack was made on 
them. This they repelled, losing four hundred men in killed and 
wounded. Jackson then withdrew to his intrench ments, four miles 
below the city. These works, partly made of cotton-bales, were un- 
successfully cannonaded by the enemy on December 28 and January 1. 
Pinally, on January 8, the British army, twelve thousand strong (or 
six thousand, as stated by the British author of the following article), 
\mder General Packenham, advanced to the assault of these works, 
which were defended by six thousand militia, most of them adepts in 
the use of the rifle. 

The story of Jackson's gallant defence of New Orleans has been 
so often told from the American point of view that we select a de- 
scription of it from a British author, who himself took part in the 
battle. His story is picturesque and impartial, and his work as a 
whole a highly interesting personal narrative of the later events of 
the war. The work in question is " The Campaigns of the British 
Army at Washington and New Orleans," by Eev. G. K. Gleig.] 

It was a clear frosty morning, the mists had dispersed. 



Gleig] the defence OF NEW ORLEANS. 275 

and the sun shone brightly upon our arms when we began 
our march. The enemy's corps of observation fell back 
as we advanced, without offering in any way to impede 
our progi'ess, and it was impossible to guess, ignorant as 
we were of the position of his main body, at what mo- 
ment opposition might be expected. Nor, in truth, was 
it matter of much anxiety. Our spirits, in spite of the 
troubles of the night, were good, and our expectations 
of success were high, consequently many rude jests were 
bandied about, and many careless words spoken ; for sol- 
diers are, of all classes of men, the freest from care, and 
on that account, perhaps, the most happy. By being 
continually exposed to it, danger, with them, ceases to be 
frightful ; of death they have no more tei'ror than the 
beasts that perish ; and even hardships, such as cold, wet, 
hunger, and broken rest, lose at least part of their dis- 
agreeableness by the frequency of their recurrence. 

Moving on in this merry mood, we advanced about four 
or five miles without the smallest check or hinderance ; 
when, at length, we found ourselves in view of the enemy's 
army, posted in a very advantageous manner. About 
forty yards in their front was a canal, which extended 
from the morass to within a short distance of the high- 
road. Along their line were thrown up breastworks, not 
indeed completed, but even now formidable. Upon the 
road and at several other points were erected powerful 
batteries ; whilst the ship, with a large flotilla of gunboats, 
flanked the whole position from the river. 

"When I say that we came in sight of the enemy, I do 
not mean that he was gradually exposed to us in such a 
manner as to leave time for cool examination and reflec- 
tion. On the right, indeed, he was seen for some time, 
but on the left a few houses built at a turning in the road 
entirely concealed him ; nor was it till they had gained that 



276 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gleig 

turning, and beheld the muzzles of his guns pointed towards 
them, that those who moved in this direction were aware 
of their proximity to danger. But that danger was in- 
deed near they were quickly taught ; for scarcely had the 
head of the column passed the houses when a deadly fire 
was opened from both the battery and the shipping. That 
the Americans ai-e excellent marksmen, as well with ar- 
tillery as with rifles, we have had frequent cause to ac- 
knowledge ; but perhaps on no occasion did they assert 
their claim to the title of good artillerymen more effect- 
ually than on the present. Scarcely a ball passed over or 
fell short of its mark, but all, striking full into the midst 
of our ranks, occasioned terrible havoc. The shrieks of 
the wounded, therefore, the crash of firelocks, and the 
fall of such as were killed, caused at first some little con- 
fusion ; and what added to the panic was, that from the 
houses beside which we stood bright flames suddenly 
burst out. The Americans, expecting this attack, had 
filled them with combustibles for the purpose, and, di- 
recting against them one or two guns loaded with red-hot 
shot, in an instant set them on fire. The scene was alto- 
gether very sublime. A ti"emendous cannonade mowed 
down our ranks and deafened us wnth its roar; whilst 
two large chateaux and their outbuildings almost scorched 
us with the flames and blinded us with the smoke which 
they emitted. 

. The infantry, however, was not long suffered to remain 
thus exposed ; but, being ordered to quit the path and to 
form line in the fields, the artillery was brought up, and 
opposed to that of the enemy. But the contest was in 
every respect unequal, since their artillery far exceeded 
ours, both in numerical strength and weight of metal. The 
consequence was that in half an hour two of our field- 
pieces and one field-mortar were dismounted ; many of 



Gleig] the defence OF NEW ORLEANS. 277 

the gunners were killed ; and the rest, after an ineffectual 
attempt to silence the fire of the shipping, were obliged to 
retire. 

In the mean time the infantrj-, having formed line, ad- 
vanced under a heavy discharge of round and grape shot, 
till thQj were checked by the appearance of the canal. 
Of its depth they were of course ignorant, and to attempt 
its passage without having ascertained whether it could be 
forded might have been productive of fatal consequences. 
A halt was accordingly ordered, and the men were com- 
manded to shelter themselves as well as they could from 
the enemy's fire. For this purpose they were hurried 
into a wet ditch, of sufficient depth to cover the knees, 
where, leaning forward, they concealed themselves be- 
hind some high rushes which grew upon its brink, and 
thus escaped many bullets which fell around them in all 
directions. 

Thus fared it with the left of the army, whilst the right, 
though less exposed to the cannonade, was not more suc- 
cessful in its object. The same impediment which checked 
one column forced the other likewise to pause ; and after 
having driven in an advanced body of the enemy, and en- 
deavored, without effect, to penetrate through the marsh, 
it also was commanded to halt. In a word, all thought of 
attacking was for this day abandoned ; and it now onl}" 
remained to withdraw the troops from their present peril- 
ous position with as little loss as possible. 

The first thing to be done was to remove the dismounted 
guns. Upon this enterprise a party of seamen were em- 
ployed, who, running forward to the spot where the\' la}', 
lifted them, in spite of the whole of the enemy's fire, and 
bore them off in triumph. As soon as this was effected, 
regiment after regiment stole away, not in a body, but one 
by one, under the same discharge which saluted their ap- 
II. 24 



278 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gleio 

proach. But a retreat thus conducted necessarily occupied 
much time. Noon had therefore long passed befoi-e the 
last corps was brought off; and when we again began to 
muster, twilight was approaching. We did not, however, 
retire to our former position ; but, having fallen back only 
about two miles from the canal, where it was supposed that 
we should be beyond reach of annoyance from the Ameri- 
can artillery, we there established ourselves for the night, 
having suffered less during the day than, from our ex- 
posed position and the enemy's heavy fire, might have 
been expected. 

[During the succeeding days, December 29 and 30, the army hiy en- 
camped, some unsuccessful efforts being made to find a path through 
the morass by which the American left might be turned. Meanwhile, 
Jackson actively strengthened his position, and by elevating his guns 
managed to throw balls into the British camp. It was evident that 
everj"- day's delay decreased the chances of success. Yet what to do 
was not apparent. An endeavor to storm the American lines seemed 
too desperate to be undertaken. It was impossible to turn them, 
and the Americans were not to be drawn from their intrenchments. 
But one course remained, — to erect breaching-batteries and attempt to 
silence some of their guns.] 

To this plan, therefore, our leader had recourse; and, 
in consequence, the whole of these three days were em- 
ployed in landing heavy cannon, bringing up ammunition, 
and making such preparations as might have sufficed for 
a siege. 

At length, having completed his arrangements, and pro 
vided such means as were considered sufficient to insure 
success, General Packenham detei-mined to commence oper- 
ations without delay. One half of the army was accord- 
ingly ordered out on the night of the 31st, and marched 
to the front, passing the pickets, and halting about three 
hundred yards from the enemy's line. Here it was re- 
solved to throw up a chain of works, and here the greater 



Gleig] the defence OF NEW ORLEANS. 279 

part of this detachment, laying down their firelocks, ap- 
plied themselves vigorously to their tasks, whilst the rest 
stood armed and prepared for their defence. 

The night was dark, and our people maintained a pro- 
found silence ; by which means, not an idea of what was 
going on existed in the American camp. As we labored, 
too, with all dihgence, six batteries \/ere completed long 
before dawn, in which were mounted thirtj^ pieces of 
heavy cannon; when, falling back a little way, we united 
ourselves to the remainder of the infantry, and lay down 
behind some rushes, in readiness to act as soon as we 
should be wanted. 

In the erection of these batteries a circumstance oc- 
curred worthy of notice, on account of its singularity. 
I have already stated that the whole of this district was 
covered with the stubble of sugar-cane; and I might have 
added that every storehouse and barn attached to the 
different mansions scattered over it was filled with ban-els 
of sugar. In throwing up these works the sugar was 
used instead of earth. EoUing the hogsheads towards 
the front, they were placed upright in the pai'apets of the 
batteries; and it was computed that sugar to the value of 
many thousand pounds sterling was thus disposed of 

[It was a singular circumstance that batteries of cotton-bales on 
the one side should be opposed by batteries of sugar-hogsheads on the 
other ; though neither proved very suitable for the purpose. Jackson's 
cotton-bales proved so inefficient that it became necessary to replace 
them with a bank of river mud. The morning of the 1st of January 
was misty. As the mist rose, the American regiments were discovered 
on parade, and were so taken by surprise on the opening of the British 
cannonade as to be thrown into utter confusion. A charge in force at 
that moment might have proved successful.] 

Whilst this consternation prevailed among the infantry, 
their artillery remained silent ; but as soon as the former 



280 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gleig 

rallied they also recovered confidence, and answered our 
salute with great rapidity and precision. A heavy can- 
nonade quickly commenced on both sides, and continued 
during the whole of the day, till, towards evening, our 
ammunition began to fail, and our fire in consequence to 
slacken. The fire of the Americans, on the other hand, 
was redoubled : lancling a number of guns from the flotilla, 
they increased their artillery to a j^rodigious amount ; and, 
directing at the same time the whole force of their cannon 
on the opposite bank against the flank of our batteries, 
they soon convinced us that all endeavors to surpass them 
in this mode of fighting would be useless. Once more, 
therefore, were we obliged to retire, leaving our heavy 
guns to their fate ; but, as no attempt was made by the 
Americans to secure them, working parties were again 
sent out after dark, and such as had not been destroyed 
were removed. 

[So far all efforts had proved abortive. The army was worn out 
with fatigue, provisions, which had to be derived from the distant 
ships, were coarse and scanty, and murmurs of discouragement were 
heard throughout the camp. Not only were they annoyed by the 
constant play of the American guns, which was kept up day and 
night, but they were exposed to a deadly fire from the opposite side 
of the river, where a battery of eighteen pieces of artillery had been 
mounted which swept the British camp. The affair was growing 
daily more desperate, and success or retreat would soon be necessary. 
Under these circumstances, Packenham determined to cut a canal by 
which boats might be brought up from, the lake, to send a detachment 
over the river and take the battery there placed, and to turn its guns 
on the American works at the same moment that he assailed them in 
front. It was a well-devised scheme, but proved unsuccessful. The 
canal was finished by the 6th of January, but in taking the boats 
through part of the banks caved in, so that only the light boats could 
pass. Thus, instead of the designed fourteen hundred men, only three 
hundred and forty crossed the river, and these were so late in starting 
that day was dawning when they rowed out on the Mississippi. 



Gleig] the defence OF NEW ORLEANS. 281 

The 8th of January was the day fixed on for the assault, and at day- 
break the signal-rocket was fired. But the boat-party was yet four 
miles from the battery which it should have been in possession of 
hours before had all gone well. The attack on the battery was suc- 
cessful, but it was too late to be of service to the main body.] 

In the mean time, the main body arrived and moved for- 
ward some way in front of the picli:ets. There they stood 
waiting for daylight, and listening with the greatest anx- 
iety for the firing which ought now to be heard on the 
opposite bank. But their attention was exerted in vain, 
and day dawned upon them long before they desired its 
appearance. Nor was Sir Edward Packenham disap- 
pointed in this part of his plan alone. Instead of per- 
ceiving everything in readiness for the assault, he saw his 
troops in battle-array, but not a ladder or fascine upon the 
field. The 44th, which was appointed to carry them, had 
either misunderstood or neglected their orders, and now 
headed the column of attack without any means being 
provided for crossing the enemy's ditch or scaling his 
ramjDart. 

The indignation of our bi'ave leader on this occasion 
may be imagined, but cannot be described. Galloping 
towards Colonel Mullens, who led the 44th, he commanded 
him instantl}' to return with his regiment for the ladders ; 
but the opportunity of planting them was lost, and though 
they were brought np, it was only to be scattered over 
the field by the frightened bearers. For our troops were 
by this time visible to the enemy. A dreadful fire was 
accordingly opened upon them, and they were mowed 
down by hundreds, while they stood waiting for orders. 

Seeing that all his well-laid plans were frustrated, Pack- 
enham gave the word to advance, and the other regiments, 
leaving the 44th with the ladders and fascines behind them, 
rushed on to the assault. On the left, a detachment under 
II. 24* 



282 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Gleiq 

Colonel Eennie, of the 21st regiment, stormed a three-gun 
battery, and took it. Here they remained for some time 
in expectation of support ; but, none arriving, and a strong 
column of the enemy forming for its recovery, they de- 
tei-mined to anticipate the attack, and pushed on. The 
battery which they had taken was in advance of the body 
of the works, being cut off from it by a ditch, across which 
only a single plank was thrown. Along this plank did 
these brave men attempt to pass ; but, being opposed by 
overpowering numbers, they were repulsed ; and the 
Americans, in turn, forcing their way into the battery, at 
length succeeded in recapturing it with immense slaughter. 
On the right, again, the 21st and 4th, supported by the 
93d, though thrown into some confusion by the enemy's 
fire, pushed on with desperate gallantry to the ditch ; but 
to scale the parapet without ladders was a work of no 
slight difficulty. Some few, indeed, by mounting upon 
one another's shoulders, succeeded in entering the works, 
but these were speedily overpowered, most of them killed, 
and the rest taken ; whilst as many as stood without were 
exposed to a sweeping fire, which cut them down by whole 
companies. It was in vain that the most obstinate courage 
was displayed. They fell by the hands of men whom they 
absolutely did not see ; for the Americans, without so much 
as lifting their faces above the rampart, swung their fire- 
locks by one arm over the wall, and discharged them di- 
rectly upon their heads. The whole of the guns, likewise, 
from the opposite bank, kept up a well-directed and deadly 
cannonade upon their flank ; and thus were they destroyed 
without an opportunity being given of displaying their 
valor or obtaining as much as revenge. 

Sir Edward saw how things were going, and did all that 
a general could do to rally his broken troops. Eiding 
towards the 44th, which had returned to the ground, but 




\ w 






T-^ ^ 



■mmm.. 



THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS. 



Gleig] the defence OF NEW ORLEANS. 283 

in great disorder, he called out for Colonel Mullens to ad- 
vance ; but that oflficer had disappeared, and was not to be 
found. He therefore prepared to lead them on himself, 
and had put himself at their head for that purpose, when 
he received a slight wound in the knee from a musket-ball, 
which killed his horse. Mounting another, he again headed 
the 44th, when a second ball took effect more fatally, and 
he dropped lifeless into the arms of his aide-de-camp. 

Nor were Generals Gibbs and Keane inactive. Eiding 
through the ranks, they strove by all means to encourage 
the assailants and recall the fugitives ; till at length both 
were wounded, and borne off the field. All was now con- 
fusion and dismay. Without leaders, ignorant of what 
was to be done, the troops first halted and then began to 
retire, till finally the retreat was changed into a flight, 
and they quitted the ground in the utmost disorder. But 
the retreat was covered in gallant st^-le by the reserve. 
Making a forward movement, the 7th and 43d presented 
the appearance of a renewed attack ; by which the enemy 
were so much awed that they did not venture beyond their 
lines in pursuit of the fugitives. 

[Meanwhile, the assault on the batteries on the opposite side of tbe 
river proved successful ; but it was made too late to be of service to 
the charging army. The Americans, surprised and dismayed by this 
unexpected attack upon their rear, yielded to a smaller force, and 
deserted their cannon.] 

In this affair our loss amounted to only three men killed 
and about forty wounded, among the latter of whom was 
Colonel Thornton, JSTor could the loss on the part of the 
enemy greatly exceed our own. Had they stood firm, 
indeed, it is hardly conceivable that so small a force could 
have wrested an intrenched position from numbers so 
superior; at least it could not have done so without 



284 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gleig 

much bloodshed. But they were completely surprised. 
An attack on this side was a circumstance of which they 
had not dreamed ; and when men are assaulted in a point 
which they deem beyond the reach of danger it is well 
known that they defend themselves with less vigor than 
where such an event was anticipated. 

When in the act of storming these lines, the word was 
passed through our ranks that all bad gone well on the 
opposite bank. This naturally added to the vigor of the 
assault ; but we had not followed our flying enemy above 
two miles when we were commanded to halt. The real 
state of the case had now reached us, and the same mes- 
senger who brought the melancholy news brought likewise 
an order to return. 

The place where we halted was in rear of a canal, across 
which was thrown a wooden bridge, furnishing apparently 
the only means of passing. At the opposite end of this 
bridge stood a collection of wooden cottages, and one 
chateau of some size. Here a company was stationed to 
serve the double purpose of a picket and a rear-guard ; 
whilst the main body, having rested for half an hour, 
began their march towards the place where they had 
landed. 

As soon as the column got sufficiently on their way the 
picket likewise prepared to follow. But in doing so it was 
evident that some risk must be run. The enemy, having 
rallied, began again to show a front ; that is to say, parties 
of sixty or a hundred men approached to reconnoitre. 
These, however, must be deceived, otherwise a pursuit 
might be commenced, and the re-embarkation of the whole 
corps hindered or prevented. It so happened that the 
picket in question was this day under my command : as 
soon, thei-efore, as I received information that the main 
body had commenced its retreat, I formed my men, and 



Gleig} the defence OF NEW ORLEANS. 285 

made a show of advancing. The Americans, perceiving 
this, fled ; when, wheeling about, we set fire to the chateau, 
and under cover of the smoke destroyed the bridge and 
retreated. Making all haste towards the rear, we over 
took our comrades just as they bad begun to embark; 
when the little corps, being once more united, entered 
their boats, and reached the opposite bank without 
molestation. 

[So ended this disjointed aflfair, which had been rendered futile not 
only by the actual diiBculties of the enterprise, but by that series of 
misadventures to which all military operations are subject. The loss 
of the British is given by our author at fifteen hundred, while Ameri- 
can authorities state it at seven hundred killed and more than one 
thousand wounded, and the American loss at but seven killed and six 
wounded. Of their leaders, Packenham was killed, Gibbs mortally 
and Keane severely wounded. General Lambert now took command, 
with no further thought than to retreat to the shipping with as little 
loss as possible. This was a diiScult matter. The whole army could 
not be transported in their boats, and it was not safe to divide it. It 
became necessary to construct a road through several miles of a morass. 
This took them till the 18th, during which time many of the soldiers 
deserted. On the evening of the 18th the camp-fires were left burning, 
and the army stole away over its wet and yielding path, reaching, after 
the greatest hardships and difficulties, the borders of the lake. From 
here the shipping was safely gained, and the fleet stood away for 
Mobile Bay, off which, on February 14, word came of the treaty of 
peace, with the discouraging reflection that their desperate eflort had 
been in every respect useless.] 



286 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 



SECTION IX. 

THE PROGRESS OF NATIONAL DEVELOP- 
MENT. 



THE FIRST QUARTER OF THE CENTURY. 

CHARLES MORRIS. 

The political history of the second war with Great 
Britain is one of strong party spirit, and of a persistent 
opposition to the war on the part of the Federalists. The 
party under this name, however, had greatly changed in 
its principles since the accession to power of the Repub- 
licans. Instituted originally in favor of a strong centi'al 
government, it was now bitterly opposed to the increase 
of Executive power, while the Republicans, the successors 
of the older Anti-Federalists, supported the administration 
in acts which their opponents denounced as " enci-oaeh- 
ments upon the liberties of the people" and " invasions of 
the principles of civil liberty." The aggressions of Eng- 
land, the retaliatory measures of America, and the result- 
ing war gave abundant exercise to the virulence of party 
spirit, and a war of opinions kept pace throughout with 
the war of hostile armies. 

That there was abundant occasion for war needs no 
argument. The aggressive acts of Great Britain were of 
a nature which now would not be submitted to for a month, 
3"et they were extended over a period of some twenty 
years. An official statement of the Secretary of State, 



MoRKrs] THE FIRST QUARTER OF THE CENTURY. 287 

made in 1812, declares that five hundred and twenty-eight 
American merchantmen had been taken by British men-of- 
war prior to 1807, and three hundred and eighty-nine after 
that period. The value of these vessels and cargoes, if 
estimated at the low figure of twenty-five thousand dol- 
lars each, would be nearly thirty million dollars, forcibly 
seized by a nation with whom we were at peace. During 
the same period several thousand seamen were impressed 
from American vessels, the greater number of whom were 
undoubtedly American citizens. Of eight hundred and 
seventy-three taken in eighteen months from October, 
1807, to April, 1809, only ninety-eight were shown to be 
British subjects, but only two hundred and eighty-seven 
were released. And such as were eventually yielded as 
American citizens were long held as virtual prisoners, and 
finally left to make their way home penniless, and without 
even an apology for the outrage. 

There was in all this abundant warrant for war. But 
the preliminary measure of the embargo, while it had 
caused severe distress to the industrial classes of England 
and reduced numerous manufacturers to poverty, boi-e yet 
more severely on the industries of America, and roused 
an unrelenting opposition to the administration. In the 
House the declaration of war was carried by a vote of 79 
to 49, and in the Senate by the small majority of 19 to 13. 
The strong opposition here displayed was general through- 
out the Northern section of the country, and the Federal 
party everywhere opposed the war whh great bitterness. 
The industrial depression which the embargo had created 
was continued by the war, and the suffering experienced 
gave strong support to the measures of the " Peace Party," 
who threw every possible obstruction, short of open rebel- 
lion, in the way of its successful prosecution. 

At that period the commerce of the country was much 



288 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

less localized than at present. The total exports from 
1791 to 1813 aggregated, in round numbers, two hundred 
and ninety-nine millions of dollars from the Eastern sec- 
tion, five hundred and thirty -four millions from the Middle, 
and five hundred and nine millions from the Southern sec- 
tion. The shipping of New England was more abundant, 
yet it was not much in excess of that of the Middle and 
Southern States. The distress from loss of commerce, 
therefore, must have been somewhat evenl}^ distributed. 
Yet the vigorous opposition to the war came from the New 
England States. It had become a party sentiment, and 
was manifested most strongly where the Fedei^al party 
was in excess. 

The feeling engendered grew so violent that a disruption 
of the Union seems to have been desired by some of the 
ultra-Federalists. The lack of preparation for the war, 
and the incapacity with which it was managed for a long 
period, gave abundant arguments against the administra- 
tion, while the heavy taxation laid upon a people who had 
been for jxars impoverished added a strong personal point 
to these arguments. Inspired by these feelings, the people 
of New England withheld aid as far as possible from the 
government, and made the not unreasonable complaint 
that the strength of the army was wasted in inadequate 
efforts to invade Canada, while the ocean border was left 
at the mercy of English cruisers, and the mililia which 
should have defended it employed in distant and useless 
duty. The South and West favored the invasion of Canada, 
but from New York northward the opposite opinion strongly 
prevailed, while New England complained that the admin- 
istration left it completely undefended, and even refused 
to Massachusetts the arms to which that State was entitled, 
and which were needed for its defence. 

The embargo of 1813 was a new blow to the interests 



Morris] THE FIRST QUARTER OF THE CENTURY. 289 

of New England. It was now proposed by zealous Fed- 
eralists that the militia and revenues of New England 
should be kept for home defence, and Massachusetts re- 
solved to call out ten thousand men to protect the coast, 
these men to be under officers appointed by the State. 
Such a proceeding was dangerous, though it could not be 
held to violate the provisions of the Constitution, which 
limited the control of the army to the general government 
in times of peace, but made no definite provision on this 
subject for times of war. 

The opposition to administration measures reached its 
ultimate in December, 1814, when a convention of dele- 
gates from Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Ehode Island, 
with a partial representation from New Hampshire and 
."Vermont, met at Hartford for the purpose of considering 
the grievances of the people and of deciding how they 
could be best redressed. This convention assembled in 
secret session, and much doubt existed as to its purposes 
and proceedings. It was denounced as treasonable by the 
friends of the administration, and a strong excitement pre- 
vailed concerning it. But at the date of its assembly the 
enthusiasm of its supporters had become reduced by the 
strong indications of peace, and this undoubtedly influ- 
enced the deliberations of the members. When its pro- 
ceedings were published they proved to be so mild as to 
excite general surprise. Instead of advocating a dissolu- 
tion of the Union, or other violent measure, they confined 
themselves to a statement of grievances, most of which 
unquestionably existed, but were necessary results of the 
war, and proposed several amendments to the Constitution. 
They demanded that representation in the House should 
be based on the free population alone, that the President 
should not be eligible for re-election, that State offices 
should be held only by native-born citizens, that no em- 
II.— N i 25 



1 



290 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

bargo should extend more than sixty days, and that a 
two-thirds vote should be required to pi-ohibit commercial 
intercourse, admit new States, authorize hostilities, and de- 
clare war. They also strongly opposed the mode adopted 
in recruiting the army. In all this there was nothing to 
warrant the terms of reproach with which it was long 
customary to speak of the " Hartford Convention," which 
was held up to the people by the opposing party as 
something deserving of the severest reprobation. 

Its recommendations fell dead. With the signing of 
the treaty of peace the causes of complaint disappeared, 
and in the universal joy that followed all thought that 
the Constitution was not a perfect instrument disappeared. 
In August, 1814, the commissioners of the United States 
and Great Britain met at Ghent, in Flanders, where they- 
signed a treaty of peace on the 24th of the following 
December. The British commissioners at first insisted 
that the Indians should be made parties to the treaty, 
and that definite boundary-lines should be fixed which 
neither party should pass. This was objected to on the 
part of the United States, and it was finally agreed that 
the Indians should be restored to the status of rights and 
possessions which they held in 1811, if they would agree 
to desist from hostilities. Both parties were prohibited 
from keeping a naval force on the lakes. The questions 
of boundaries and of the fisheries were settled, but on the 
points which had been the caitse of the war — the en- 
croachments upon American commerce, and the right of 
impressment — no measures were adopted. The treaty, as 
signed, was silent on these subjects. These causes of the 
war had disappeared, and the navy of the United States 
had proved its ability to defend American commerce in 
any futui*e difficulty, so the sore subject was quietly 
ignored. 



Morris] THE FIRST qUARTER OF THE CENTURY. 291 

The war had produced certain important changes in the 
industrial relations of America. The embargo had an- 
nihilated commerce for several years before the war, and 
this had been continued by the subsequent blockade, these 
influences causing an abnormal scarcity of goods of foreign 
production. Many such articles were obtained wholly 
from abroad, and these grew very scarce and dear. Others, 
such as sugar, woollens, pottery, glassware, hardware, and 
cutlery, were produced partly at home, and were less se- 
verely affected ; while the staples of home production — 
cotton, tobacco, and food-products — fell very low in price. 
Yet strenuous efforts were made to ovei'come the scai'city 
of foreign goods by home manufacture, and the interests 
of industrial production in America gained an important 
impetus. JS"umerous manufacturing establishments were 
founded, particularly in the Northern States, and that 
process of rendering the United States industrially inde- 
pendent of Eui'ope, which had made some progress against 
severe discouragements in the colonies and in the early 
years of the republic, now progressed with encouraging 
rapidity. 

But the close of the war quickly reversed all these con- 
ditions. Foreign goods, mostly of British manufacture, 
were poured profusely into the country, and the price of 
such commodities fell to less than half their war value. 
As a consequence, many of the rival manufactories of 
America were ruined. They had not attained a condition 
to enable them to compete with the skilled and cheap 
labor abroad, and but few of them were able to stand the 
sudden strain. It was the severer that Enghsh manu- 
facturers, jealous of this growing rivalry, took special 
pains to undersell the products of American workshops. 

Agriculture, on the contrary, received a powerful im- 
petus, and its products greatly increased in value. Cot- 



292 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

ton, which had been sold with difficulty at ten cents per 
pound, now had a ready sale at more than double that 
price. Tobacco rose from two or three to fifteen, twenty, 
and even twenty-five dollars the hundred-weight. The 
value of land and labor rose in proportion, producers and 
merchants became enriched by the rapid rise in pi-ices, and 
the shipping interests of the country grew more prosper- 
ous than ever before. The currency, which during the 
war had become a depi-eciated paper money, continued 
disordered, but this had no specially disturbing influence 
on the agricultural and commercial prosperity of the 
country, and every interest except that of manufacture 
was remarkably benefited. With this sudden change 
from poverty and privation to affluence and luxury the 
expenditure of the people greatly increased. G-old watches 
replaced those of silver, silk goods took the place of cotton, 
costly wines succeeded whiskey and other common bever- 
ages, furniture became transformed, and in every way 
the enhanced wealth of the people made itself apparent. 
Yet during this period the only money in use south of 
Kew England was the irredeemable paper of the banks, 
or in some cases the currency issues of irresponsible indi- 
viduals. 

An effort was made to overcome the latter difficulty by 
the establishment of a national bank. The charter of the 
former institution of this character had expired in 1811. 
After considerable debate, Congress passed, during the 
session of 1816, an act founding a national bank. This 
institution, which was given a twenty years' charter, was 
incorporated with a capital of thirty-five millions of dol- 
lars, its debts being limited to fifty millions, exclusive of 
deposits. Measures were taken at the same time to en- 
force a resumption of specie payments by the State banks. 
In the succeeding year (1817) a bill was passed for the 



Morris] THE FIRST QUARTER OF THE CENTURY. 293 

total repeal of the internal taxes, and the financial con- 
ditions of the war finally disappeared. In 1816 the funded 
debt of the Union was estimated at one hundred and ten 
millions of dollars. 

During the period now under consideration certain im- 
portant variations had taken place in the industrial rela- 
tions of the people. There was a growing tendency to 
the division of the country into two marked sections, — one 
the home of free labor and of advancing commercial and 
manufacturing interests, the other the seat of slave labor 
and of developing agricultural conditions. Up to 1790 
this separation of interests was not clearly evident. The 
vigorous measures of England had prevented any thriving 
development of manufactures, while outside the tobacco 
of Virginia the country produced no agricultural staple 
of sectional importance. The difficulties attending the 
preparation of cotton for the market as yet checked the 
development of that industry. But with the invention 
of the cotton-gin by Whitney, in 1791, cotton quickly rose 
to a prominent position among American industries. By 
the aid of this instrument three hundred and fifty pounds 
of cotton could be cleaned in a da}^, as compared with one 
pound by hand-labor. As a result, the cotton-product 
augmented with the utmost rapidity. In 1800 the export 
had reached the seemingly high figure of 19,000,000 pounds. 
In 1824 it reached 142,000,000 pounds. 

Slave labor, which had been growing an undesirable 
form of industry, now became of high value, and the slaves 
of the country increased from 657,047 in 1790 to 1,524,580 
in 1820. During the same period the total population in- 
creased from 3,929,782 to 9,654,596 persons. But, while 
slavery was thus developing in the South, it was vanish- 
ing from the North, and the industrial interests of the 
country were becoming strikingly differentiated, the char- 
II. 25* 



294 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

acter of the inhabitants of the two sections similarly devi- 
ating. 

The industrial development of the slave States soon fell 
behind that of the North. The character of Northern 
agricultural labor required the division of the land into 
small farms, which had to be kept up to a high level of 
productiveness. The system of agricultural labor in the 
South tended towards increase in size of plantations, in 
which the soil was systematically exhausted, with no at- 
tempt to reproduce its fertility. In the North industry 
was the business of all, emulation was excited, and the 
worker was looked upon as the peer of any in the land. 
In the South labor was despised, the planter gave himself 
up to social enjoyment, and left the care of his interests 
to the ovei'seer. The price of land in the South steadily 
fell behind that of the North. 

Manufacture on a large scale had no existence in the 
Southern States. Their capital was monopolized by agri- 
culture, and the development of the manufacturing indus- 
tries was left to the North. Thus the distinction between 
the industries, ideas, and condition of society in the two 
sections of the country steadily grew more marked, until 
no two civilized nations could have been sociallj^ more un- 
like. In the South society became divided into three well- 
marked classes, with little in common between them : the 
great land-owners, who posed as a veritable aristocracy; 
the lesser slave-holders, the middle class; and the poor 
whites, an ignorant and worthless rabble, who were de- 
spised even by the slaves. Slavery served as the founda- 
tion-stone of these distinctly-separated classes. In the 
North no such class-conditions existed. The tendency 
there was towards the breaking down of social distinc- 
tions, and to the merging of the population into one gen- 
eral mass, in which every man considered himself the 



Morris] THE FIRST QUARTER OF THE CENTURY. 295 

equal of every other, and all rising or falling below the 
broad level was an individual — not a class — phenomenon. 
The diversity of conditions which thus arose between the 
Northern and Southern sections of the country was des- 
tined to have the most vital consequences in its succeeding 
history, and to give origin to a strife which had its final 
outcome in the civil war. 

While these relations were arising between the Northern 
and Southern sections of the original States, the conditions 
for the formation of new Slates were I'apidly appearing in 
the West. The vast territory east of the Mississippi had 
been gradually filling up since the era preceding the Eev- 
olution. Along the borders of the great lakes and on the 
banks of the Ohio settlements had early been founded, 
while Boone and his followers had crossed the Cumber- 
land Mountains and led a tide of emigration towards the 
fair land of Kentucky. All these formed centres of de- 
parture for new pioneer movements, while from the East- 
ern States emigration pushed northward into Maine and 
westward into Vermont and central New York, forcing its 
way ever and ever deeper into the wilderness. McMaster 
gives a vivid description of the pioneer fever in 1800. 
■ Then Kentucky and New York were the Far West. The 
flood of emigration followed two routes. Of these New- 
Englanders chose the northern, via Albany and along the 
Mohawk valley to the wilderness beyond. Every trade 
and profession, except that of seamanship, was represented 
in these westward-flowing columns. A genuine pioneer 
fever arose. In front of the tide moved the speculators 
and land-jobbers, buying up the land, often in whole coun- 
ties at a time. Then came the restless pioneer, who built 
his log cabin, girdled the trees, sowed a handful of grain, 
and then gave way to the impatient longing that possessed 
him, and moved on, to make way for a second line of set- 



296 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

tiers, with some money, who purchased his improvements 
and availed themselves of the results of his labor. These 
in their turn moved on, leaving the country more habitable 
behind them. Next came the permanent settlers, the 
founders of towns and villages, and civilization began to 
settle upon the land. 

The hardships endured by these pioneers were severe. 
Food was scarce, their huts were rude and ill fitted to bear 
the inclemency of the winter, but the fever of adventure 
which possessed them kept them in steady march, the 
aborigines yielding step by step before them, and civiliza- 
tion, with slower but firmer steps, advancing in their i^ear. 

The other route, that via the Ohio, was pursued by the 
aid of rude boats, which floated down the current with 
the families and household goods of the hardy emigrants. 
Towns and villages quickly dotted the fertile borders of 
this great stream. The savages, who had fiercely assailed 
the early voyagers, were driven back, and as early as 1794 
a line of packet-boats had begun to ply between Pittsburg 
and Cincinnati. These, which made one voyage a month, 
were bullet-proof, and carried six small cannon, throwing 
one-pound balls. After Wayne's victory the stream flowed 
into the Northwest. In the census of 1800 the population 
of Ohio Territory was already 45,360, while Kentucky 
had a population of 220,950. 

During the succeeding period the West filled up with 
remarkable rapidity. As ^lew emigrants from the Old 
World poured into the Atlantic ports, many of the older 
settlers made way for them, and followed the routes de- 
scribed into the boundless West. After the purchase of 
Louisiana the stream crossed the Mississippi, and spread 
over the broad forest-region beyond. State after State 
was admitted into the Union, as the Territories gained the 
requisite population, until by 1820 to the original thirteen 



Morris] THE FIRST QUARTER OF THE CENTURY. 297 

States were added eleven others. All the States now ex- 
isting east of the Mississippi, with the exception of Mich- 
igan, Wisconsin, and Florida, were by that time admitted, 
while west of that river the two States of Missouri and 
Louisiana were members of the Union. 

It was a rude population that filled up the region that 
intervened between the pioneer outposts and the older 
civilized settlements. Drunkenness, gambhng, profanity, 
fighting, and duelling prevailed, and no modern mining 
camp ever presented a more detestable " reign of terror" 
than did the frontier settlements of the wild West of that 
era. One locality is thus described by Peter Cartwrigbt, 
the celebrated pioneer preacher: "Logan County, Ken- 
tucky, when my father moved to it (1793), was called 
' Rogues' Harbor.' Here many refugees from almost all 
parts of the Union fled to escape punishment or justice ; for, 
although there was law, yet it could not be executed, and it 
was a desperate state of society. Murderers, horse-thieves, 
highway-robbers, and counterfeiters fled here, until they 
combined and actually formed a majority." A battle with 
guns, pistols, dirks, knives, and clubs took place between 
the ''Rogues" and the "Regulators." The latter were 
defeated, and villany reigned supreme. 

On the wickedness of Kentucky there suddenly fell, in 
the early years of the century, an epidemic of religious 
conversion so remarkable in character as to call for some 
attention at our hands. Many of its pecuUar features had 
never before been seen, and none of them have ever ap- 
peared since in like intensity. This " awakening" of the 
people began in 1799, in Logan County, Kentucky, the 
home of Wickedness above described. Several ardent 
sensational preachers, of the Presbyterian denomination, 
roused a strong revival spirit in their congregations, 
which spread widely through the adjoining country. But 



298 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

it was in tiie summer of 1800 that the " revival" broke out 
in the fulness of its intensity. It was in a measure due 
to a new feature of missionary work, the " camp-meeting." 
A religious encampment was organized under the trees of 
the forest, to which people flocked in thousands, while the 
impassioned appeals of the excitable preachers produced 
an extraordinary effect. Thousands were convicted of 
sin, while the camp-meeting idea spread rapidly through- 
out the whole region, and nearly all the population flocked 
to these emotional assemblies. 

The effect upon those thus " convicted" was of a re- 
markable character. The wild cries and supplications, 
the flowing tears and wringing of hands, were followed 
by a " falling exercise," in which the excited participants 
fell prostrate to the earth and lay as if dead, displaying 
an abnormal muscular rigidity. During 1801 the revival 
grew more extensive and striking in its effects. " All who 
have left us any account of the scene agree that language 
is inadequate to describe it. It was sublime, grand, 
' awful.' The noise was ' like the roar of Niagara. The 
vast sea of human beings was agitated as if by a storm.' 
The tide of emotion seemed to roll over them like tumul- 
tuous waves. Sometimes hundieds were swept down 
almost at once, 'like the trees of the forest under the 
blast of the wild tornado.' ... Of the people, some were 
singing, others j)raying, others crying aloud for mercy, 
others still ' shouting most vociferously ;' while hardened 
men, who with horrid imprecations rushed furiously into 
the praying circles, were smitten down as if by an invisi- 
ble hand, and lay powerless, or racked by ' fearful sjjasms, 
till their companions beholding them were palsied with 
terror.' At times the scene was surpassingly terrible, and 
the boldest heart was unmanned. The infidel forgot his 
philosophy, and trembled till he sank to his knees or fell 



Morris] THE FIRST QUARTER OF THE CENTURY. 299 

to the earth. ' At one time,' says a spectator, ' I saw at 
least five hundred swept down in a moment, as if a bat- 
tery of a thousand guns had been opened upon them; and 
then immediately followed shrieks and shouts that rent 
the very heavens. My hair rose upon my head, my whole 
frame trembled, the blood ran cold in my veins, and I fled 
for the woods.' " * 

As time went on, the muscular convulsions attending 
these '-conversions" became more varied and extraordi- 
nary. "There was iho falling, the jerking, the rolling, the 
running, the dancing, and the barking exercise. Individ- 
uals were seized by these, often in spite of studied resist- 
ance, and sometimes almost while the jest or open blas- 
phemy was upon their lips. Dreams and visions, the holy 
laugh and the holy kiss, helped forward the enthusiasm 
of the occasion or the grotesqueness of the scene." f 

Those affected with the "jerks" were flung about as if 
hurled from a catajDult ; arms, head, legs, jerking as if 
they would be torn from the body ; bodies flung against 
trees or bounding from the ground ; hands torn from their 
grasp upon the branches of the forest; the whole mus- 
cular organism of the body seemingly divorced from its 
ordinary duty, and possessed by a frenzy. In the " holy 
laugh" the devotees would burst into uncontrollable fits 
of hysterical laughter. The other " exercises" presented 
similar indications of muscular convulsion, acting under 
the influence of emotional mania. Hundreds of conver- 
sions took place, affecting often the most hardened sinners 
of the community. It cannot be said that these "conver- 
sions" were always, or even generally, permanent. Many 
of the converts returned, sooner or later, to their original 

* Gillett's " History of the Presbyterian Church," vol. ii. p. 167. 
t Ibid., vol. ii. p. 170. 



300 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

wickedness. Yet the genei-al tone of the community was 
improved, and Kentucky ceased to be the harbor of the 
unregenerate to the extent to which it had been several 
years before. 

This revival epidemic spread far beyond the region of 
the State, particularly into Tennessee, North and South 
Carolina, and Georgia, where similar phenomena, though 
on a less extraordinary scale, were presented. Since that 
era the camp-meeting has been a recognized element in 
the religious propagandism of the more emotional sects. 
The wild manifestations just described have been suc- 
ceeded by less violent exercises, yet camp-meeting and 
revival conversions still display, though in a milder form, 
the same tendency to nervous excitement and muscular 
convulsion. 

We may conclude this review with a general statement 
of the events of importance which occurred during the 
Monroe administration. James Monroe was elected Presi- 
dent in the election of 1816, with Daniel D. Tompkins for 
Vice-President. Among the more important of the suc- 
ceeding events was the invasion of Florida by General 
Jackson. From 1812 difficulties had existed with the 
Seminole Indians, while many fugitive slaves fled to 
Northern Florida and amalgamated with these savages. 
These negroes settled along the Appalachicola Eiver for 
a distance of fifty miles, defying the American and the 
Spanish authorities alike. They had been supplied with 
arms and ammunition by the British, and built a strong 
fort, which was attacked by Colonel Clinch in 1816. A 
red-hot ball from a gunboat in the river penetrated the 
magazine and blew up the fort, only fifty of its three hun- 
dred inmates escaping alive. This for a time broke up 
the negro settlements ; but annoyance from the Seminoles 
continued. In 1818 General Jackson invaded Florida, de- 



MoKRis] THE FIRST QUARTER OF THE CENTURY. 301 

stroyed the Indian towns, and took forcible possession of 
the Spanish fort of St. Mai-ks and the city of Pensacola. 
The diplomatic controversy between Spain and the United 
States to which this gave rise resulted in the cession 
of the whole of Florida to the United States, on Februar}- 
22, 1819. The treat}- of cession was ratified on the 19th 
of February, 1821. 

In 1817 piratical settlements which had been formed on 
Amelia Island, Florida, and at Galveston, Texas, were 
broken up by the American navy. A more dangerous 
haunt of pirates, in the West Indies, was attacked in 1822, 
and over twenty piratical vessels destroyed. In 1823 
Commodore Porter sought out and broke up the retreats 
of the pirates. They afterwards, however, continued their 
depredations from other hiding-places. 

The political state of the country during the Monroe 
administration differed from its condition before or since. 
The Federal party had disappeared. The Eepublican 
party was yet undivided. Practically there was but one 
l^olitical party in America, and what was known as " the 
era of good feeling" prevailed. Industrially, however, 
there came on the land a severe depression. The sudden 
prosperity that succeeded the war had vanished, and the 
natural revulsion from abnormally- high prices had come. 
After a brief resumption of specie payments, the banks 
again suspended. Gold and silver disappeared. The Bank 
of the United States was in a disorganized condition. It 
could not collect its debts without a ruinous pressure on 
business. Kuin and bankruptcy prevailed everywhere. 
Business and employment sank to a low ebb. In all 
directions the distress of a financial panic prevailed, from 
which it took several years for the country to recover. 

An interesting event of 1824 was the visit of Lafayette 
to this country. The venerable visitor was received with 
II. 2fi 



H02 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

an enthusiasm which has never been surpassed in America. 
His movement through the country was a continual march 
of joy and triumph. He journeyed five thousand miles 
through the Union, everywhere feted and caressed. Con- 
gress voted him two hundred thousand dollars and a town- 
ship of land, and on his departure from the country he 
was conveyed to France in an American frigate prepared 
specially for his accommodation. 

During the period in question the problem of internal 
improvements came up for the serious consideration of 
Conirress. Lar^e subsidies were demanded from the gen- 
eral government for the building of roads and canals and 
the improvement of rivers and harbors. Jefferson, Madi- 
son, and Monroe alike denied the constitutionality of such 
an appropriation of the public funds, yet each of them 
signed many bills for this purpose. The strife finally 
came to depend upon the simple question whether or not 
a certain sum of money should be voted by Congress, the 
discussion of the constitutional point being avoided. At 
first both sections of the countrj^ favored measures of 
this character, but eventually the South declared against 
them. The remark of a Louisiana Congressman in 1817, 
" Louisiana wants no roads," well expressed the ruling prin- 
ciple of the Southern opposition to internal improvement 
schemes. Yet large appropriations were made for various 
purposes, for a canal route across Florida, for a national 
road from Cumberland, Maryland, to Ohio, for the im- 
provement of the navigation of the Ohio, etc. The great- 
est entei'prise of the time, the Erie Canal, was the work 
of the State of New York. This was commenced on July 
4, 1817, and completed in 1825, at a cost of ten million 
dollars. 

Of the other notable events of the period may be men- 
tioned the founding of the Anti-Slavery Association in 



Morris] THE FIRST QUARTER OF THE CENTURY. 303 

1815, with the establishment of a newspaper in its interests ; 
the formation of the first savings-bank, in Philadelphia, in 
1816 ; the founding of colleges and univei'sities in nearly 
every State ; and the crossing of the ocean by the steamer 
Savannah, in 1819. John Fitch had operated a steam- 
boat on the Delaware before 1790, while Fulton, in 1807, 
ran a steamboat more effectively upon the Hudson. The 
first railroad in America was a short road at Quincy, Mas- 
sachusetts, worked by horse-power. The first locomotive 
engine ran from the coal-mines of the Delaware and Hud- 
son Company to Honesdale, Pennsylvania, in 1828. 

During the same era began the series of rebellions 
of the Spanish-American colonies, which finally ended in 
their indejoendence and the establishment of republican 
governments in them all. The revolt of Mexico against 
Spain broke out in 1810. It continued year after year 
with varying success, the revolutionists now gaining im- 
portant advantages, Spain now regaining predominance. 
The independence of Mexico was proclaimed in 1813, 
while b}' 1819 the dominion of Spain had again become 
almost unquestioned. Victoria, one of the last leaders of 
the revolutionists, was forced to fly for refuge to the moun- 
tains, where he remained concealed for several years in a 
state of the utmost destitution. In 1821 a new insurrec- 
tion broke out, headed by Iturbide, which was joined by 
Victoria, Guerrero, and others of the old revolutionists. 
This attempt was successful: the Spanish were driven out, 
and a monarchical government was formed, with Iturbide 
as ruler. He was forced to resign, however, in 1823, and a 
republican government, on the model of that of the United 
States, was adopted in 1824, with G-eneral Victoria as the 
first President. 

Closely connected with this successful revolution is the 
famous " Monroe Doctrine," with an account of which tl\is 



30-4 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

article may close. America had early in its history " de- 
clared its intention" not to interfere in European affairs. 
But the correlative doctrine, that Eurojoe should not in- 
terfere in American affairs, was later in being asserted. 
The idea appears in the correspondence of Jefferson, but 
it was first stated as a principle of American politics in the 
messag-e of President Monroe of 1823. The South Amer- 
can Spanish colonies had achieved their independence at 
the same time with Mexico, and there was a possibility 
that the combined powers of Europe might interfere with 
their liberties in the interest of Spain. Monroe said, in 
the message in question, " We owe it to candor, and to the 
amicable relations existing between the United States and 
(the allied) powers, to declare that we should consider any 
attempt on their part to extend their system to any part 
of this hemisphere as dangerous to our peace and safety. 
With the existing colonies or dependencies of any Eui-o- 
pean power we have not interfered and shall not interfere. 
But-with the governments who have declared their inde- 
pendence and maintained it, and whose independence we 
have, on great consideration and just principles, acknowl- 
edged, we could not view any interposition for the purpose 
of oppressing them, or controlling in any other manner 
their destiny, by any European power, in any other light 
than as the manifestation of an unfriendly disposition 
towards the United States." He further declared that the 
American continents " are henceforth not to be considered 
as subjects for future colonization by any European power." 
The " Monroe Doctrine" never received the sanction of 
Congress. No congress of the republics of America has 
ever been held. Yet it holds its own as a national tradi- 
tion which the people of the United States are earnest to 
uphold. The only decided attempt to act in opposition to 
itg doctrines was in the effort of France to secure Maxi- 



Von HolstJ THE MISSOURI COMPROMISE. J05 

milian a throne in Mexico. The unfortunate result of this 
effort will in all probability prevent any similar action from 
being taken at any time in the near future. "America 
for the Americans" is a principle of policy which all Eu- 
rope is not strong enough to disdain or to subvert. 



THE MISSOURI COMPROMISE. 

H. vox HOLST. 

[A consideration of this important subject calls for some preliminary- 
review of the status of slavery in America, of the legislation in regard 
to it, and of the public feeling concerning it. We have already made 
several references to the condition of this institution in the colonial 
period. At the outbreak of the Revolution slavery existed in all the 
thirteen colonies. Though the fact of its existence was not always 
recognized by the English government, yet the ministry had been 
during colonial times steadily in favor of the slave-trade, and vetoed 
every eflbrt of the colonies to prevent the importation of slaves. 

The Quakers were the first to agitate the question of slavery from a 
moral point of view. By the end of the seventeenth centurj^ they had 
begun to instruct the slaves in religion, and to protest against their 
importation. During the eighteenth century the emancipation of 
slaves had become an active measure of the Quakers as a society, not 
of individuals only, as in other sects. The negro, who had long been 
classed with domestic animals, now began to be looked upon as a man. 
Yet no attack upon slavery where it existed was thought of. It was 
supposed that by stopping the importation of slaves the institution 
would gradually disappear. At the outbreak of the Revolution there 
were about half a million slaves in the country. (In 1790 there were 
697,897 slaves, of whom 40,370 were held in the Northern States.) 
The increase of the free population was greater than that of the 
slave, and it was erroneously argued that the importance of the insti- 
tution would steadily diminish. Anti-slavery sentiment was not con- 
fined to the North, but even made its appearance in the South, while 
11.— u 26* 



306 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Von Holst 

the political aspect of the question of slavery was confined to impor- 
tation. The Congress of 1774 adopted resolutions opposed to importa- 
tion, and in 1776 this prohibition was repeated without opposition. 
The first step in the opposite direction was made when the passage 
decrying slave-importation was stricken from the Declaration of In- 
dependence. 

During the Kevolutionary War opinions in favor of emancipation 
grew in strength in the North, the abolition societies of Pennsylvania 
became more energetic, and similar societies were founded in the other 
States. Even in Virginia, in 1788, the importation of slaves was 
forbidden, and steps were taken in favor of gradual emancipation. 
But in the proceedings of the Constitutional Convention the Southern 
delegates showed very clearly that they did not expect or desire any 
rapid vanishment of the institution. There were two questions to be 
considered, — the status of the slaves in taxation, and their status in 
representation. The first of these was decided, by the casting vote 
of New Jersey, in favor of the exemption of slaves from taxation. 
The second was decided, in accordance with a compromise measure 
proposed by Wilson of Pennsylvania, by reckoning five slaves as equal 
to three freemen in representation. The compromise, as passed, pro- 
hibited Congress from forbidding the importation of slaves until 1808. 
In the debates on these measures a strong division of opinion ap- 
peared, but it was based solely on the political and financial interests 
of the two sections, not on any idea of the morality or immorality of 
human slavery. In 1787 an act was adopted prohibiting slavery in 
the territory northwest of the Ohio, but providing for the surrender 
of fugitive slaves from that territory. The Constitution also contained 
a provision to the efiect that any person lawfully bound to " service or 
labor" in any State, and fleeing to another State, should be delivered 
up on demand. However it appeared then, it has since become pain- 
fully evident that the slave-holding interest gained decided victories 
in the formation of the Constitution, and placed the institution of 
slavery on a solid basis from which it would not easily be overthrown. 

In 1789 North Carolina, and in 1802 Georgia, ceded their western 
tei-ritory to the United States, with the proviso that no action should 
be taken prohibitorj' of slavery in this territory. The cessions were 
accepted with this proviso. This was the first step towards extending 
the dominion of slavery. In 1793 a fugitive-slave law was passed by 
Congress, which ordered the return of a slave from any State or Terri- 
torv to which he had fled. A case occurred under this law in 1797. 



Yo:s Holst] THE MISSOURI COMPROMISE. 307 

Four North Carolina slaves had been freed by their masters. Being 
condemned under a State law to be sold again, they flod to Philadel- 
phia. They were here seized as fugitive slaves, and, though a petition 
in their favor was presented to Congress, its consideration was rejected 
by a vote of fifty to thirty-three. A petition from these negroes was 
brought before Congress three years later, with the same result, and 
petitions in regard to slavery from the Quakers of Pennsylvania were 
similarly refused a hearing. 

On January 1, 1808, the first day on which Congress had a right to 
act upon it, a bill forbidding the importation of slaves was passed 
unanimously. Yet its effect was not prohibitory, since the smuggling 
of slaves immediately took the place of their open importation. Eflbrts 
were made to break up this illicit trade, but with little effect, it being 
estimated by Southern members that from thirteen thousand to fifteen 
thousand slaves were annually smuggled into the country. In 1819 
Congress declared the slave-trade to be piracy, though none of its 
participants seem to have been condemned as pirates. 

That the number of slaves was rapidly increasing became very 
evident, and colonization-schemes were proposed to dispose of free 
negroes and illegally-imported slaves. It was supposed that by this 
method some amelioration of slavery might be produced, though it 
was not clear what useful effect could result 

There had by this time arisen a decided distinction between th« 
industrial systems of the two sections of the country. The North had 
grown more and more distinctively commercial and manufacturing, 
the South more and more agricultural. In the one slavery became 
destitute of utility ; in the other it appeared to be absolutely essential. 
The cotton-gin, invented by Whitney in 1793, made cotton-raising the 
special industry of the South, the cultivation of this staple at once re- 
ceiving a vigorous impulse. Slave labor, which had begun to grow 
highly unsatisfactory, at once advanced in importance, and the demand 
for slaves rapidly increased. Meanwhile, the representation of the 
Northern States in Congress was steadily outnumbering that of the 
South. In 1790 the North had thirty-eight representatives to the 
South's thirty-one. In 1820 the North had one hundred and eight, the 
South eighty-one. The South was evidently losing power in legislation, 
and saw the necessity of taking active measures to increase its repre- 
sentation. This could be done only by an extension of slave territory. 
The Territory of Missouri applied in 1819 for admission as a State, 
and the question of slavery-extension at once came up in Congress. 



308 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Von Holst 

An account of the controversy which succeeded, with its vitally- 
important termination, we extract from Dr. Von Hoist's " Constitu- 
tional and Political History of the United States," as translated from 
the German by John J. Lalor and Alfred B. Mason.] 

In February, 1819, the House of Eepresentatives went 
into committee of the whole over the admission of Mis- 
soui'i as a State. The recommendation of the committee 
provided in the ordinary manner what was necessary to 
this end. Talhnadge of New York moved the amendment 
that the admission should be made dependent upon the 
two following conditions : prohibition of the further in- 
troduction of slaves, and emancipation of all the slave 
children born after the admission as soon as they reached 
the age of twenty-five. This motion gave life to the whole 
strife, and the idea embraced in it remained the essence of 
the strife until the decision of its most important points. 
The majority of the House of Eepresentatives voted to 
make the admission of Missoui'i as a State dependent upon 
such a limitation of her power in regard to slavery ; but 
'the majority of the Senate decided against this. Both 
houses insisted on their respective resolves, and Congress 
adjourned without coming to any final decision. When 
the question again came up in the next session, the oppo- 
nents of the so-called " Missouri limitation" found them- 
selves materially aided by a new circumstance. Maine, 
which had hitherto been a district of Massachusetts, ap- 
plied for admission as an independent State. The majority 
of the Senate coupled together the Maine and Missouri 
bills, and so put before the majority of the House the 
alternative of admitting Missouri without any limitation, 
or denying, for the present, the admission of Maine. The 
House was not yet ready to acknowledge itself so easily 
beaten. Neither earlier nor later has a struggle been 
fought out in Congress in which the majorities of both 



Yon Holst] THE MISSOURI COMPROMISE. 309 

houses have stood by the decision once arrived at with 
such stiff-neckedness. The close of the session constantly 
drew nearer, and an agreement seemed farther off than 
ever. The whole country was in a state of feverish ex- 
citement. At the last moment, in the night between the 
2d and 3d of March, 1820, free labor and the principle of 
nationality yielded to slavery and the principle of State 
sovereignty. If the matter had affected Missouri alone, 
the defeat would have been of small practical significance ; 
but two principles had been given up, and these two prin- 
ciples involved the weal and woe of the rej)ublic. . . . 

The South bj- no means limited itself to a discussion of 
the mere question of law, but brought forward a cloud of 
pleas in justification. It was asserted that the Louisiana 
Territory, to which Missouri belonged, had been obtained 
at the cost of the whole Union, and that it would there- 
fore be unjust to deprive the inhabitants of half the Union 
of the " colonization right ;" but this would evidently be 
the case if they were forbidden to take their property 
with them. It was said, on the other hand, that slavery 
would present an impassable wall to immigration from the 
North. Where labor bears the stamp of shame the free 
laborer cannot turn his steps. But how could there be 
hesitation when the choice was to be made between the 
exclusion of slavery or free labor ? The Union should be 
a nursery of freedom, and not a breeding-jjlace for slavery. 
The South itself declaimed with the greatest pathos over 
the curse of slavery. Was it not, then, a self-evident duty 
to preserve the land from any extension of the curse ? 

The last part of this argument was repelled with great 
decision by the majority of Southern members. They 
affirmed that when it was proposed to allow the importa- 
tion of slaves from Africa, or from any foreign country, 
the South would be first and most earnest in protesting 



310 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Vox Holst 

against it. But by compliance with the wish expressed by 
the South the slave population of the Union " would not 
be increased by a single soul." Over and over again it 
was affirmed, with Jefferson in his old age, " All know 
that j)ermitting the slaves of the South to spread into the 
West . . . will increase the happiness of those existing, 
and, by spreading them over a larger surface, will dilute 
the evil everywhere and facilitate the means of getting 
rid of it, an event more anxiously wished by those on 
whom it presses than by the noisy pretenders to exclusive 
humanity." 

[This false reasoning, however, was readily overthrown, it being 
undeniable that increased subsistence would increase population, while 
the higher prices arising from a widened market would be a strong 
impulse towards an increase in the supply of slaves. The question of 
State rights was next brought in as an element of the debate, it being 
claimed that the Constitution was but an "international compact," 
which could exercise no other powers than those originally granted 
it by the sovereign States, and could impose no conditions on new 
States not directly specified in that instrument.] 

It was indeed said that the slavery limitation did not 
really withdraw a "fundamental right," but rather did 
away with a " fundamental wrong." But the Constitution 
had left to the original States the right of tacitly letting 
the fundamental wrono- stand as a " riffht" or of makinu: 
it one. If several States made no use of this prerogative, 
and if the facts of every day showed it to be more than 
a destructive fiction that slavery was a " purely municipal 
institution," yet this did not change the positive right. 
Slavery eat into the life-marrow of the whole Union ; 
therefore not only considerations of morality, but the 
highest self-interest of the Union demanded the absolute 
prohibition of its further extension. But morality and 
self-interest could not do away with the fact that the 



Von HoLST] THE MISSOURI COMPROMISE. 311 

whole Constitution rested upon the foundation of the 
equality of the members of the Union, and that the 
original members had full freedom of action in regard 
to this particular question. 

The unconquerable obstacle can be expressed in a single 
sentence : the fact could not be done away with that the 
Union was composed of free and slave States, that is, the 
fact could not be done away with that the attempt had 
been made to construct out of heterogeneous elements not 
only a harmonious but a homogeneous whole. 

Arguments could not bring the question any nearer to 
a solution. After the differences of principle between the 
two parties had been clearly established, the debates 
served only to excite passion. The slave-holders sought 
more than ever to make a bridge of threats upon which 
they could cross to their goal. It is said that Eandolph 
proposed to Clay to abandon the House to the Northern 
members, and that Clay actually gave the project serious 
consideration. 

Missouri herself took an extremely arrogant position. 
When Taylor moved, December 16, 1819, to defer the con- 
sideration of the bill till the first Monday in February, 
1820, Scott, the delegate of the Territory, objected that 
Missouri would, in this case, go on and organize a State 
government without waiting any longer for leave from 
Congress. And this threat of the Territorial delegate 
against the whole Union was not punished as a piece 
of laughable insolence. Eeid of Georgia declared that 
Missouri would " indignantly throw off the yoke" and 
"laugh C(5ngress to scorn." Tyler of Virginia, the future 
President, asked what would be done if " Missouri sever 
(herself) from the Union ?" And Jefferson, the ex-Presi- 
dent, expressed the fear that Missouri would be "lost by 
revolt." ... 



312 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Von Holst 

During the whole struggle the decision had depended 
only upon a few votes, for a number of JSTorthern repre- 
sentatives had voted, from the beginning, with the South. 
That it was, nevertheless, so long before the South ob- 
tained, by threats and worse means, the necessarj^ number 
of votes, is a plain proof that an independent and honor- 
able spirit was then much more common among Northern 
politicians than later. The restriction was finally stricken 
out by a majority of onlj'- three votes. 

The results of this defeat were immense ; but still moi-e 
fraught with evil was the second defeat which the North 
suffered at the same time, and almost, indeed, without a 
struggle. . . . Since only the northern part of Missouri 
Territory was to be organized as a State, the southern 
part, the so-called Arkansas district, had to receive a Ter- 
ritorial government of its own. When the bill concerning 
this came up for discussion in the House, Taylor pi-oposed 
an amendment in regard to slavery like the one which 
Tallmadge had brought up in the case of Missouri. In 
committee of the whole the amendment was rejected by 
eighty to sixty-eight votes. In the House it had a some- 
what better fate. The first part, which forbade the further 
introduction of slaves, was rejected by seventy-one to 
seventy votes ; but the second part, which freed slave 
children born in the Territory upon their twenty-fifth 
birthday, was adopted by seventy-five to seventy-three 
votes. With the help of parliamentary rules, however, 
the question was brought once more before the House. 
By the casting vote of the Speaker, Clay, the bill was 
referred back to the committee, and on the sailie day, in 
accordance with its report, the previously adopted amend- 
ment was rejected by eighty-nine to eighty-seven votes. 

The attempt to lay hand upon the peculiar institution 
in this Territory was regarded by the slave-holders as an 



Von Holst] THE MISSOURI COMPROMISE. 313 

especial bit of spitefulness, because Arkansas was regarded 
as belonging to the peculiar domain of the South. This 
opinion influenced some Northern representatives, and to 
it the easy victory of the South is to be ascribed. . . . 

The eighth section of the Missouri act of March 6, 1820, 
provided "that in all that territory ceded by France to 
the United States, under the name of Louisiana, which 
lies north of 36° 30' north latitude, not included within 
the limits of the State contemplated by this act, slaverj- 
and involuntary servitude . . . shall be, and is hereby, 
forever prohibited." This was the second half of the 
so-called Missouri Compromise, and the responsibility for 
its adoption does not wholly I'est upon a few weak or 
venal delegates from the North. Only five Northern 
members voted against it. The North thus gave its ap- 
proval by an overwhelming majority to the division of the 
Territories between free labor and slavery. It was indeed 
only declared that slavery should not be allowed north of 
36° 30', but this was self-evidently equivalent to saying 
that south of this line no hinderance would be put in the 
way of the slave-holders. The first suggestion of such a 
compromise was made by McLaue in Februarj?-, 1819, and 
he then expressly declared that the Territories should be 
" divided" between the free and slave States. It was never 
afterwards denied that this was a fair interpretation of 
the compromise. The action of the Northern members 
can be justified from no point of view. Even in mitigation 
of their fault it can only be alleged that when they had 
decided to make a bargain the one agreed upon did not 
seem disadvantageous, provided men did not look beyond 
the present time. The Louisiana territory — according to 
the boundaries set to it by the United States — was divided 
into two nearly equal parts by the line of 36° 30'. But, 
while the Missouri question was still pending, an agreement 
II.— o 27 



314 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Vux Holst 

was reached with Spain concerning the boundary-line by 
which a great part of the southern half was lost to the 
United States. 

[The result of this compromise was that the country was practically 
divided into free and slave sections, upon a fixed geographical basis. 
Though there was nothing in the bill to declare that slavery should 
exist everywhere south of the line of demarcation, it had become a 
tacit bargain which was not likely to be successfully questioned.] 

The South had allowed itself to pursue a purely ideal- 
istic policy where European relations were concerned, but 
where the interest of the slave-holders was touched upon 
it had followed from the beginning a policy that was not 
only realistic in the highest degree, but wise. It took 
good care to demand everything forthwith. What it 
needed at the moment satisfied it for the moment. It 
propped the planks securely, and then shoved them just 
so much farther that it could safely take the next step 
when it became necessary. It had done this at present, 
and therefore was contented for the present. Up to this 
time the free States had always been one more in number 
than the slave States. Now the latter got Alabama and 
Missouri into the Union, and the former only Maine. The 
balance of power in the Senate was therefore fully estab- 
lished. Their territorial possessions were, in the mean 
time, ample ; Florida, just acquired from Spain, Arkansas 
and the rest of the southei^n part of the Louisiana terri- 
tory, balanced for a while the northwest, which, as Charles 
Pinckney wrote, had been inhabited until now only by 
wild beasts and Indians. Why express alai'm now over 
things which could become realities only after the lapse of 
many years ? But it did not follow from this that alarm 
should never be expressed over them. Eeid of Georgia 
had already asked why a partition-line should not be 
drawn between the two sections " to the Pacific Ocean." . . . 



Von Holst] THE MISSOURI COMPROMISE. 315 

Up to this time the division of the Union into two sec- 
tions had been only a fact : henceforth it was fixed by 
law. . . . Each of the two groups inevitabl}- constantly 
consolidated more and more ; and the moi'e they consoli- 
dated the more the Missouri line lost its imaginary char- 
acter. For the first time thei'e was, in the full sense of 
the term, a free North and a slave-holding South. "Po- 
litical prudence," as it was hyper-euphemistically called, 
might lead one to oppose this with the strength of de- 
spair; but all political artifices were put to shame by the 
power of facts. Even the last resource, the erasure of the 
black line from the map by another law and by judicial 
decisions, remained without effect : the line was etched 
too deeply into the real ground. Only one thing could 
erase it, and this one thing was the destruction of the 
gloomy power that had drawn it. From the night of 
March 2, 1820, party history is made ujd, without inter- 
ruption or break, of the development of geographical 
parties. 

ThisVas what was really reached when men breathed 
free, as if saved from a heavy nightmare. The little and 
cowardly souls congratulated themselves that the slavery 
question had been buried forever; and jQt men never 
shook themselves free from the Missoui-i question. 

The strife was kindled again by a clause of the Consti- 
tution of Missouri by which the legislature was obliged to 
pass laws against the entry of free colored persons into 
the State. The North declared that this clause infringed 
upon the constitutional provision according to which " the 
citizens of each State shall be entitled to all privileges and 
immunities of citizens in the several States." The slave- 
holders aflirmed that fi-ee blacks were not to be considered 
as citizens " in the sense of the Constitution." The North- 
ern Congressmen opposed to this the fact that free blacks 



316 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Von Holst 

were citizens in some Nortliern States, and that the clause 
in question spoke of " citizens of every State." The de- 
bate was finalh- lost in endless arguments over the mean- 
ing of the words " citizens" and " citizens of the United 
States," without reaching any results. 

[A compromise was finally proposed bj^ Henry Clay, which per- 
mitted the objectionable clause to remain in the State Constitution 
provided that the State would agree never to pass a law to make it 
operative. This assurance was given by the Missouri legislature, and 
the conflict ended.] 

Three constitutional questions — two of them of cardinal 
importance — had been discussed. Men had fought shy of 
all three for the moment, and for this reason the origi- 
nators of the compromise claimed that they had postponed 
the decision to the Greek kalends. From a legal point 
of view, only one positive result had been reached, and 
this was on a point concerning which no legal question 
existed. The Northern majority had indirectly renounced 
the right of Congress to forbid slavery, as far as the ter- 
ritory 13'ing south of the line of 36° 30' was concerned, 
and it had agreed to this renunciation because the South- 
ern minority had renounced, on its side, its claims to 
having the question of law involved decided now in its 
favor, provided its concrete demands, which it based upon 
its interpretation of the Constitution, were complied with. 

This was the true nature and substance of the " com- 
promise" which gave Henry Clay the first claim to the 
proud name of " the great peace-maker." 



Everett] THE ORDINANCE OF NULLIFICATION. 317 
THE ORDINANCE OF NULLIFICATION. 

EDWARD EVERETT. 

[One chief cause of political disturbance in America was tempo- 
rarily removed in the passage of the " Missouri Compromise" measure. 
Another remained, which was destined to produce no small sum of 
future trouble. It sprang from the same source as the other, the in- 
stitution of slavery, and the diversity of interests that necessarily grew 
up between the free and the slave States. The tendency to territorial 
expansion, which was due to the exclusively agricultural interests of 
the cotton-raising States, and to the need of a market for their steadily- 
increasing slave property, was provided for, for the time being, by the 
one measure. The remaining cause of controversy was of a different 
character, and one which could be satisfactorily settled by no com- 
promise. It became then, and to a great extent yet remains, the main 
controversial feature of American political parties, and is a source 
of difference of opinion which can be definitively removed only by the 
growth of a harmony of interests throughout America. 

For a long period after the settlement of the American colonies their 
industries were mainly agricultural. The growth of commercial in- 
terests was restricted by English laws. The colonies were permitted 
to trade only with the mother-country, even their trade with one an- 
other being made illegal. And the products of America were largely 
carried in English ships. After the Kevolution this state of affairs 
ceased to exist. The shipping interests of America rapidly extended, 
its commerce spread to all parts of the habitable world, and in the 
early years of the nineteenth century the business of importation and 
exportation grew with extraordinary rapidity. 

Up to this period the main industries of America were in harmony. 
The excess products of the farm, the forest, and the mine needed a 
market, which could be found only in foreign lands. Articles of com- 
fort and luxury were demanded in return, and these also had to be 
sought for abroad. The commercial population of America grew 
rich through this double duty of carrying home products abroad and 
bringing foreign products home. Tariff charges, or taxation of im- 
ports and exports, militated against both these interests, and were re- 
stricted to the absolute demands of revenue. The call for protection 
II. 27* 



318 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Everett 

of American productive interests was as yet too feeble to be clearly 
heard. 

Only very slowly did the manufacturing interests of the United 
States develop, and a home market for the products of mine, forest, 
and farm grow up. The restrictive policy of England had borne even 
more severely on this than on the commercial interest. During the 
long colonial period manufacturing industry languished, discouraged 
by these restrictions, and at the opening of the Eevolution it was of 
minor importance as compared with the other industries of the coun- 
try. The establishment of American independence removed the legal 
restrictions which had been imposed by the jealousy of English 
manufocturers, but there remained the influence of an overpowering 
competition. The vast capital, the abundant machinery, and the 
skilled labor of English workshops depressed, by their unequal rivalry, 
the infant manufactures of America, the cost of ocean-transportation 
and the small duty-charges being insufficient to overcome the diflfer- 
ence in advantages for production. There was no hinderance to the 
minor trades, which required labor on the spot, and iron and some 
other branches of general manufacture made some progress, but the 
competition was too severe for any rapid growth of the manufacturing 
industries on this side of the ocean. 

The conditions attending the second war with Great Britain changed 
this state of affairs, and tended to the special encouragement of Ameri- 
can manufectures. The commercial restrictions established by Eng- 
land and France, which cut off America from both its buying and its 
selling market, the embargo and n,jn-intercourse acts, which intensified 
this difficulty, and the disturbance to commerce by the war that suc- 
ceeded, had the tendency to force America to consume nearly all its 
products at home, and to produce by home labor, as fully as possible, 
the much-needed articles which had previously been received from the 
workshops of England and the Continent. As a consequence, the manu- 
facturing interests of America grew and diversified with a rapidity that 
was in decided contrast with the slowness of their preceding develop- 
ment, and by the close of the war a marked and important advance 
had been made. The manufacture of cotton, for instance, increased 
from ten thousand bales in 1810 to ninety thousand bales in 1815, 
nearly enough iron was made to supply the country, and several other 
branches of manufacture were highly prosperous. 

"With the close of the war, however, competition again came into 
active play. The country was flooded with English goods, at a price 



Everett] THE ORDINANCE OF NULLIFICATION. 319 

and of a quality which American goods could not rival. The high 
rates of labor which followed the war added to the discrepancy in 
price, and many American manufacturers were ruined, while the re- 
mainder sustained themselves only with great difficulty. Congress 
was called upon to remedy the evil which had thus suddenly arisen. 
Protection of American industry against foreign competition became 
necessary, if our workshops were to continue in existence, and to the 
old party cries a new one was added, that of protective tariff. 

Two interests, as we have seen, were opposed to this, those of 
agriculture and commerce. Neither these nor manufactures were at 
first such sectional interests as they later became. Pennsylvania 
was the State in which manufactures had most developed. Com- 
merce was the leading pursuit farther north, and the tariff of 1816 was 
carried by the support of several Southern members against New Eng- 
land generally. Yet the rapid development in the South of agricultural 
industry, and the natural desire to obtain the cheapest goods in return 
for the products of their fields, without regard to whether they came 
from the North or from abroad, soon brought non-tariff into prominence 
as a Southern party principle. In the North opinion was more divided. 
Its shipping interest was large, and for the advancement of that low 
tariff seemed desirable. But its manufacturing interest was grow- 
ing steadily more important, and for the rapid development of that 
a protective tariff had become a necessity. 

That protection of manufoctures against undue competition until 
grown strong enough to stand without support, and the consequent 
development on American soil of all the industries adapted to its 
people, climate, and natural conditions, were measures essential to the 
best good of the country, was theoretically undeniable. But theoreti- 
cal considerations, and the question of future advantage, have very 
little to do with the management of human affairs. Men are governed 
by their present interests, in many cases even where wise enough to 
see that those interests are opposed to the present or future interests of 
mankind at large. A tariff controversy therefore at once arose, which 
developed into what has been denominated a " thirty-year tariff war," 
since it extended from 1816 to 1846, during which period it was among 
the most prominent political questions of the country. . 

The tariff bill of 1816 was a sort of compromise between the con- 
flicting interests. A high duty was advocated on all goods which 
could unquestionably be produced in sufficient quantity in the United 
States. A bill was passed in which this classification of dutiable 



320 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Everett 

articles was adopted, but in which protection was admitted as an inci- 
dental feature only, and the raising of revenue made the predominant 
principle in calculating duties. With this compromise nobody was 
satisfied. New agitation at once began, and in 1820 a bill was passed 
by the House in favor of an openly protective system. This bill was 
rejected by the Senate. Yet the protectionists, who were steadily 
growing in power, would not let the question rest, while the ISTorth and 
the South became definitively divided on this measure, the latter losing 
its earlier division of sentiment and becoming decidedly in favor of 
low taritf. 

With this change in opinions and national questions came a chnnge 
in parties. With the end of the war the old Federal party had vir- 
tually passed out of existence. The Eepublican party, which became 
overwhelmingly predominant, now split into two new parties, the 
Democratic and the National Eepublican (which later became known 
as the Whig party), between which the country was for many years 
afterwards divided. The tariff for a considerable period remained the 
leading political problem. The depression of industries which fol- 
lowed the era of high prices and prosperity after the war gave the 
protectionists a strong weapon, of which they did not fail to make 
active use. In 1824 the question again became prominent before 
Congress. The plantation States were now unanimous in their oppo- 
sition to the tariff measure, yet it passed both Houses by small majori- 
ties. In 1828 a new revision of the tariff was made in favor of pro- 
tection. The fight had now become bitter. The general growth of 
manufacturing interests throughout the North had given the protec- 
tionists the balance of strength, and the free-traders, finding themselves 
powerless to gain their ends in Congress, began to indulge in treason- 
able language, claiming that individual States had the right to refuse 
to submit to laws which worked adversely to their interests. 

It was particularly in South Carolina that this doctrine was advo- 
cated, and the power of a State to nullify, or to render null and void 
the operation of a Federal law, was openly advocated by hot-headed 
Congressmen of that State, who wished to apply this dangerous prin- 
ciple, which was but a step short of secession from the Union, to the 
tariff bill of 1828. Mr. Hayne of South Carolina, the opponent of 
Daniel Webster in the most famous oration of the latter, was an ar- 
dent advocate of this doctrine, and, while bitterly denouncing New 
England in that famous conlroversy, he openly urged on the floor of 
Congress the doctrine of " Nullification," claiming that any State 



Everett] THE ORDINANCE OF NULLIFICATION. 321 

when deeming itself oppressed by a law of Congress considered un- 
constitutional by the State legislature, bad the right to declare this law 
null and void and to release its citizens from the duty of obedience. 
The crushing reply which Webster gave to this argument, and the 
remarkable ability with which he unfolded the principles of the con- 
stitutional government of the United States, had little effect on the 
discontented State, which two years afterwards passed an ordinance of 
nullification of the tariff laws. A brief account of the manner in 
which this act of rebellion was crushed by President Jackson we ex- 
tract from the " Biographical Memoir of Daniel Webster," by Edward 
Everett, including in our selection a description of other vigorous 
measures adopted by the hard-headed "hero of New Orleans."] 

It may be stated as the general characteristic of the 
political tendencies of this period that there was a decided 
weakening of respect for constitutional restraint. Yague 
ideas of executive discretion prevailed on the one hand 
in the interpretation of the Constitution, and of popular 
sovereignty on the other, as represented by a President 
elevated to office by overwhelming majorities of the peo- 
ple. The expulsion of the Indian tribes from the Southern 
States, in violation of the faith of treaties and in open 
disregard of the opinion of the Supreme Court of the 
United States as to their obligation ; the claim of a right 
on the part of a State to nullify an act of the general 
government ; the violation of the charter of the bank, and 
the Presidential veto of the act of Congress rechartering 
it ; the deposit of the public money in the selected State 
banks with a view to its safe keeping and for the greater 
encouragement of trade by the loan of the public funds ; 
the explosion of this system, and the adoption of one 
directly opposed to it, which rejected wholly the aid of the 
banks and denied the right of the government to employ 
the public funds for any but fiscal purposes; the executive 
menaces of war against France ; the unsuccessful attempt 
of Mr, Yan Buren's administratio-n to carry on the govern- 



322 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Everett 

ment upon General Jackson's sj'stem ; the panic of 1837, 
succeeded by the general uprising of the country and the 
universal demand for a change of men and measures, — 
these are the leadino- incidents in the chronicle of the 
period in question. . . . 

In the Twenty-Second Congress (the second of Greneral 
Jackson's administration) the bank question became promi- 
nent [the question of rechartering the Bank of the 
United States, founded in 1816, and whoso charter would 
expire in 1836]. Genei-al Jackson had in his first message 
called the attention of Congress to the subject of the bank. 
No doubt of its constitutionality was then intimated by 
him. In the course of a year or two an attempt was 
made, on the part of the executive, to control the appoint- 
ment of the officers of one of the Eastern branches. This 
attempt was resisted by the bank, and from that time for- 
ward a state of warfare, at first partially disguised, but 
finally open and flagrant, existed between the government 
and the directors of the institution. In the first session 
of the Twenty-Second Congress (1831-32) a bill was intro- 
duced by Mr. Dallas, and passed the two Houses, to renew 
the charter of the bank. This measure was supported 
by Mr. Webster, on the ground of the importance of a 
national bank to the fiscal operations of the government, 
and to the currency, exchange, and general business of 
the country. No specific complaints of mismanagement 
had then been made, nor were any abuses alleged to exist. 
The bank was, almost without exception, popular at that 
time with the business interests of the country, and par- 
ticularly at the South and West. Its credit in England 
was solid ; its bills and di-afts on London took the place 
of specie for remittances to India and China. Its conve- 
nience and usefulness were recognized in the report of the 
Secretav}' of the Treasur}- (Mr. McLane), at the same time 



Everett] THE ORDINANCE OF NULLIFICATION. 323 

that its constitutionality was questioned and its existence 
threatened by the President. So completely, however, 
was the policy of General Jackson's administration the 
impulse of his own feelings and individual impressions, 
and so imperfectly had these been disclosed on the present 
occasion, that the fate of the bill for recharteriug the bank 
was a matter of uncertainty on the part both of adherents 
and opponents. Many persons on both sides of the two 
Houses were taken by surprise by the veto. When the 
same question was to be decided by General Washington, 
he took the opinion in writing of every member of the 
Cabinet. 

But events of a different complexion soon occurred, and 
gave a new direction to the thoughts of men throughout 
the country. The opposition of South Carolina to the 
protective policy had been pushed to a point of excite- 
ment at which it was beyond the control of party leaders. 
Although, as we have seen, that policy had in 1816 been 
established by the aid of distinguished statesmen of South 
Carolina [Mr. Calhoun and others], who saw in the success 
of American cotton manufactures a new market for the 
staple of the South, in which it would take the place of 
the cotton of India, the protective policy at a later period 
had come to be generally considered unconstitutional at 
the South. A change of opinion somewhat similar had 
taken place in ISTew England, which had been originall}^ 
opposed to this polic}', as adverse to the commercial and 
navigating interests. Experience gradually showed that 
such was not the case. The enactment of the law of 1824 
was considered as establishing the general principle of pro- 
tection as the policy of the country. It was known to be 
the policy of the great centi-al States. The capital of the 
North was to some extent forced into new channels. Some 
branches of manufactures flourished, as skill was acquired 



I 



324 AMERICAN HISTORY. [EvERErx 

and improvements in machinery made. The eoai'se cotton 
fabrics which had enjoyed the protection of the minimum 
duty prospered, manufacturing villages grew up, the price 
of the fabric fell, and as competition increased the tariff 
did little more than protect the domestic manufactures 
from fraudulent invoices and the fluctuation of foreign 
markets. Thus all parties were benefited, not excepting 
the South, which gained a new customer for her staple. . . . 
Unfortunately, no manufactures had been established in 
the South. The vast quantities of new and fertile land 
opened in the west of Georgia, in Alabama, and Mississippi, 
injured the value of the old and partly exhausted lands 
of the Atlantic States. Labor was drawn off to found 
plantations in the new States, and the injurious conse- 
quences were ascribed to the tariff. Considerations of a 
political nature had entirely changed the tolerant feeling 
which, up to a certain period, had been shown by one 
class of Southern politicians towards the protective policy. 
With the exception of Louisiana, and one or two votes in 
Virginia, the whole South was united against the tariff. 
South Carolina had suffered most by the inability of her 
worn lands to sustain the competition with the lands of 
the Yazoo and the Eed Elver, and to her the most active 
opposition, under the lead of Mr. Calhoun, was confined. 
The modern doctrine of nullification was broached by 
her accomplished statesmen, and an unsuccessful attempt 
made to deduce it from the Virginia resolutions of 17U8. 
Mr. Madison, in a letter addressed to the writer of these 
pages in August, 1830, firml}^ resisted this attempt; and, 
as a theory, the whole doctrine of nullification was over- 
throw^n by Mr. Webster in his speech of the 26th of 
January, 1830. But public sentiment had gone too far in 
South Carolina to be checked ; party leaders were too 
deeply committed to retreat ; and at the close of 1832 the 



Everett] TEE ORDINANCE OF NULLIFICATION. 325 

ordinance of nullification was adopted by a State con- 
vention. 

This decisive act roused the hero of New Orleans from 
the vigilant repose with which he had watched the 
coming storm. Confidential orders to hold themselves in 
readiness for active service were sent in every direction 
to the oflScers of the army and the navy. Prudent and 
resolute men were quietly stationed at the proper posts. 
Arms and munitions in abundance were held in readiness, 
and a chain of expresses in advance of the mail was es- 
tablished from the Capitol to Charleston. These prepara- 
tions made, the Presidential proclamation of the 11th of 
December, 1832, was issued. It was written by Mr. Ed- 
ward Livingston, then Secretary of State, from notes fui-- 
nished by General Jackson himself; but there is not an 
idea of importance in it which may not be found in Mr. 
"Webster's speech on Foot's resolution [the oration in reply 
to Haj^ne]. 

The proclamation of the President was met by the 
counter-proclamation of Governor Hayne ; and the State 
of South Carolina proceeded to pass laws for carrying the 
ordinance of nullification into eff'ect, and for putting the 
State into a condition to carry on war with the general 
government. In this posture of affairs the President of 
the United States laid the matter before Congress, in his 
message of the 16th of January, 1833, and the bill " fur- 
ther to provide for the collection of duties on imports" 
was introduced into the Senate, in pursuance of his recom- 
mendations. Mr. Calhoun was at this time a member of 
that body, having been chosen to succeed Governor Hayne, 
and having of course resigned the office of Yice-President. 
Thus called, for the first time, to sustain in person before 
the Senate and the country the policy of nullification, 
which had been adopted by South Carolina mainly under 
n. 28 



I 



H26 AMERICAN HISTORF. [Everett 

biH influence, and wliicb was now threatening the Union, 
it hardly need be said that he exerted all his ability and 
put forth all his resources in defence of the doctrine which 
had brought his State to the verge of revolution. It is 
but justice to add that he met the occasion with equal 
courage and vigor. The bill " to make further provision 
for the collection of the revenue," or " Force Bill," as 
it was called, was reported by Mr. Wilkins from the 
Committee on the Judiciary on the 21st of January, and 
on the following day Mr. Calhoun moved a series of reso- 
lutions affirming the right of a State to annul, as far 
as her citizens are concerned, any act of Congress which 
she may deem oppi'essive and unconstitutional. On the 
15th and 16th of Februaiy he spoke at length in opposi- 
tion to the bill, and in development and support of his 
resolutions; On this occasion the doctrine of nullification 
was sustained by him with far greater ability than it had 
been by Grcneral Haync, and in a speech which we believe 
is regarded as Mr. Calhoun's most powerful effort. In 
closing his speech Mr. Calhonn challenged the opponents 
of his doctrines to disprove them, and warned them, in 
the concluding sentence, that the principles they might 
advance would be subjected to the revision of posterity. 



[His speech was answered by Mr. Webster in a vigorous constitu- 
tional argument, concerning whose power and eflfect we may quote 
from Mr. Madison: "It crushes 'nullification,' and must hasten an 
abandonment of ' secession.' " It will suffice to say here, in conclusion 
of this subject, that the passage of the Force Bill, and the energetic 
preparations of the President, deterred the nulliners. The President 
had declared in his proclamation that as chief magistrate of the coun- 
try he could not, if he would, avoid performing his duty; that the 
laws must be executed ; that all opposition to their execution must be 
repelled, and by force, if necessary. That Jackson meant all that he 
said no one for a moment questioned, and South Carolina hastened to 



Everett] THE ORDINANCE OF NULLIFICATION. 327 

" nullify" her hostile action, though still loudly advoc:iting her favorite 
doctrine of "State rights." 

The tariff difficulty, which had led to this controversy, was for the 
'.ime quieted by another "compromise bill," offered by Henry Clay. 
This provided for the gradual reduction of duties till 1843, when they 
were to reach a general level of twenty per cent. This bill was ac- 
cepted by Calhoun and his friends as a practical concession to their 
doctrines, and as enabling them to retire with some dignity from the 
discreditable attitude into which they had forced their State. The 
second administration of President Jackson, beginning in March, 
1833, was mainly devoted to the war on the United States Bank, 
which had been begun by his veto of the bill to re-charter that insti- 
tution.] 

The removal of the deposits of the public moneys from 
tlie Bank of the United States [was] a measure productive 
of more immediate distress to the community and larger 
train of evil consequences than perhaps anj- similar meas- 
ure in our political history. Tt was finally determined on 
while the President was on his Northern tour, in the sum- 
]ner of 1833. receiving in ever}' part of New England those 
demonstrations of respect which his patriotic course in the 
great nullification struggle had inspired. It is proper to 
state that up to this period, in the judgment of more than 
one committee of Congress appointed to investigate its 
affairs, in the opinion of both Houses of Congress, who in 
1832 had passed a bill to renew the charter, and of the 
House of Representatives, which had resolved that the 
deposits were safe in its custody, the affairs of the bank 
had been conducted with prudence, integrit}^ and remark- 
able skill. It was not the least evil consequence of the 
warfare waged upon the bank, that it was finally drawn 
into a position (though not till its Congressional charter 
expired and it accepted \qvj unwisely a charter as a State 
institution) in which, in its desperate struggle to sustain 
itself, it finally forfeited the confidence of its friends and 



I 



328 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Fairbanks 

the public, and made a deplorable and shameful shipwreck 
at once of its interests and honor, involving hundreds, at 
home and abroad, in its own deserved ruin. 



THE SEMINOLE WAR. 

GEORGE R. FAIRBANKS. 

[Daring the early period of the nineteenth century few troubles 
with the Indians existed, except those that formed a portion of the 
war with Great Britain. The first conflict with Tecumseh antedated 
that war, but the principal troubles with the Tecumseh confederacy, 
and with the Creeks, whom he had stirred up to hostility, were its 
resultants. The country east of the Mississippi was now so thickly 
occupied by white settlers as to awe the savages, and the final con- 
flicts in this region came from two thinly-settled territories, — Wis- 
consin, in the far northwest, and Florida, in the southeast. In 1832 
the famous chief Black Hawk roused the Sacs, Foxes, and Winneba- 
goes of Wisconsin to hostilities. As a result, most of the Indians 
were driven west of the Mississippi, and a ti'eaty of peace was con- 
cluded, by which they ceded to the United States a large section of 
their territory. 

The powerful tribal organizations of the Southern range of States, 
the Cherokees, Creeks, Chickasaws, and Choctaws, were gradually 
induced to yield their lands to the whites and to accept new homes 
in the Indian Territory. The Seminoles of Florida, a tribe said to 
have been derived from Creek refugees, resisted the efiTorts made to 
remove them, and started a war which proved to be the longest and 
most costly Indian war to which the United States had ever been sub- 
iected. Instead of being concluded in one or two severe campaigns, 
as in ordinary cases, it dragged its slow length along for seven years, 
until the government almost despaired of subduing its savage ad- 
versaries. 

Difficulties with this tribe began in 1812, when Colonel Newnan in- 
vaded their territory and was forced to retreat with loss. The shelter 
which they gave to fugitive slaves, and their depredations on the set- 




OSCEOLA, THE SEMINOLE CHIEF. 



Fairbanks] THE SEMINOLE WAR. 329 

tlements, were the causes of the next war, conducted hy General Gaines 
and afterwards by General Jackson, which resulted in the cession of 
Florida by Spain to the United States in 1819. 

The active efforts to settle this new territory which succeeded were 
partly checked by the presence and the lurking hostilities of the In- 
dians, while the shelter which they gave to runaway slaves in their 
secret coverts formed another source of disturbance. Finally, in 1833 
a treaty was made with the principal chiefs for the removal of the tribe 
T,o the Indian Territory. But many of the younger warriors resisted 
this treaty, which they declared to have been fraudulently obtained. 
The celebrated Osceola, in particular, displayed indications of deter- 
mined hostility to the whites. 

After evading the execution of the treaty until 1835, with studied 
dissimulation of their real intentions, in which Osceola acted his part 
so perfectly as completely to deceive the government agents, while in 
the mean time they collected all the arms and ammunition possible, 
they suddenly broke out into hostilities. Major Dade, with a party 
of over one hundred men, was ambushed, and the whole party killed 
or mortally wounded. At the same time Osceola and some followers 
made a sudden attack upon the government commissioner. General 
Thompson, and massacred him and several of his companions, within 
a short distance of Fort King. The war thus inaugurated was prose- 
cuted with more or less vigor for several years succeeding. But such 
were the intricacies of the swamps in which the savages concealed 
themselves that they proved almost impossible to reach, while they 
constantly appeared at unexpected places and committed unceasing 
murders and depredations. 

In October, 1836, Governor Call, with nearly two thousand men, 
penetrated the swamps, and defeated the Indians in two engagements. 
They received a severe blow in 1837. General Jessup, after several 
encounters with them, induced some of the principal chiefs to sign a 
treaty of removal. This treaty was soon broken through the influence 
of Osceola. But in October this chief, with several others, who had 
come into the American camp under the protection of a flag, was seized 
and held prisoner by General Jessup. Osceola was subsequently con- 
fined in Fort Moultrie, where he died of a fever in the following 
January. 

In December, 1837, the army in Florida numbered about nine 
thousand men. Yet against this strong force the Indians still held 
out. A severe battle took place during this month near Lake Okecho- 
II. 28* 



330 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Fairbanks 

bee, in which General Taylor defeated the enemy, after a hard fight in 
the swamps. 

Both sides now changed their tactics. The Indians avoided pitched 
battles, and confined themselves to unexpected onslaughts, while hiding 
eflectively from the troops. The whites, on the contrary, penetruiel 
the everglades more and more deeply, and gradually broke up the lurk- 
ing-places of the foe. A warfare of a peculiar and unusual character 
ensued, a description of the principal features of which we select fiom 
Fairbanks's " History of Florida."] 

The winter of 1838-39 was spent hj tl\e troops in active 
service in the endeavor to hunt out from their hiding- 
places the small Indian bands scattered through the coun- 
try, but with little success, as the Indians, by their better 
knowledge of the country, were enabled to avoid their 
pursuers. Occasionally their settlements were reached 
and broken up, but few of the Indians were seen. 

During the operations of this campaign, one hundred 
and ninety-six Indians and negroes surrendered or were 
captured and sent West. 

The policy of the Indians was now, says General Taylor, 
to avoid giving battle to regular troops, even in single 
companies, while at the same time every opportunity was 
seized to wreak their vengeance on the unarmed inhabi- 
tants of the country. Moving by night, rapidly, in small 
squads, they were able to appear unexpectedly in remote 
parts of the country, their presence indicated only by 
their rifles and shrill yells as they approached at daylight 
the home of some unsuspecting settler. Murders were 
committed by the Indians within a few miles of Tallahassee 
and St. Augustine. 

Discouraged at the failure of his efforts either to find 
the Indians or bring them to a stand, General Taylor 
adopted the plan of dividing the whole country into 
squares, and placing a block-house, with a small detach- 
ment, in each, a part of the number to be mounted. The 



FairbanksI the SEMINOLE WAR. 331 

officer commanding was to scout his district every alter- 
nate day, thoroughly examining the swamps and ham- 
mocks to see that they were clear of Indians. The merits 
of this plan were not tested, as it was never fully carried 
out. 

[It was prevented from being put into operation by the arrival of 
General Macomb as a government agent to treat with the Indians. 
He made an arrangement with the chiefs in which they agreed to con- 
fine themselves to a designated portion of the south of Florida until 
other arrangements could be made. It was now announced that the 
war was at an end, and great joy was felt by the citizens, who pre- 
pared to return to their devastated fields. Yet in July, when the 
season for active operations by the troops had passed, hostilities broke 
out in all directions, and many murders were committed. Colonel 
Harney, with a detachment of twenty-five men, was attacked and 
many of his men killed, while he himself escaped only by swimming 
to a fishing-boat.] 

The prosecution of the war now became extremely dis- 
couraging, and the end seemed farther off than three 
years before. The Indians had become familiarized with 
the exhibition of military power, and had learned to con- 
temn it. They found themselves at the close of four years 
still in possession of the country, and powerful for annoy- 
ance and to inflict revenge, and their ferocity soenxed to 
increase with its exercise. . . . 

The citizens and troops had become so exaspeiated 
against the Indians for their repeated massacres of the 
feeble and the unprotected that a feeling had gi'own up 
that they were deserving of extermination, and that any 
and every means should be used to hunt and capture or 
destroy them. The great difficulty in so wide an extent 
of country, abounding in thick hammocks, palmetto and 
scrubby lands, swamps, islands, and morasses, was to 
pursue them successfully. 



I 



332 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Fairbanks 

[An attempt was made to run them down with Spanish blood-hounds, 
but these proved unsuited to the country. The Indians continued 
their old tactics, coming in, professing friendship, claiming to be tired 
of the war, receiving food, and suddenly disappearing. New murders 
would quickh' follow. Severely as they had been hunted, the country 
was so adapted to concealment that they were yet spread through all 
parts of the Territory.] 

Billy Bowlegs, the Prophet, and Hospetarkee, Shiver and 
Shakes, were the head-men of a large party of Seminoles 
who occupied the country south of Pease Creek. In De- 
cember, 1840, Colonel Harney, with a detachment of one 
hundred men, penetrated this hitherto-unexplored region in 
canoes, and created much alarm among the occupants of 
this almost inaccessible portion of the countrj-. Chekika, 
the Spanish-Indian chief, was overtaken by a detachment 
of troops and killed, and six of his companions captured 
and hung on the spot, and, it is said, their bodies were 
suspended from the trees. 

This expedition, and the summary punishment inflicted 
by Colonel Harney, greatly intimidated the Indians, and 
they resorted to their old expedient of having " a talk" and 
expressing a strong desire for peace and amity. As their 
sincerity could only be tested by the result, their offers 
were accepted, and they came in and received clothing 
and subsistence, thus gaining time to plant their fields 
and devise new measures of security for their families. 
During the winter and spring, every day they could delay 
operations against them was important. In April, having 
accomplished their purposes, they again disapiaeared, 
leaving the baffled officers of the government to speculate 
once more on the uncertainty of Indian professions. . . . 

Five years had elapsed, and still the Indians remained, 
and the government was in the position of almost a sup- 
pliant for peace. The efforts of the troops against the 



Fairbanks] THE SEMINOLE WAR. 333 

Indians were evaded by the exercise of tiie utmost caution 
and cunning. With the sagacity and thorough wood-craft 
of natives of the forest, while the white soldier was plod- 
ding his weary way dependent upon guides or the compass 
for a knowledge of his route, the Indian stopped behind 
some clump of bushes or peered forth from some leafy 
covert and saw his pursuers pass by, and then stole back 
to attack some point in the rear of the pursuing troops, 
which had been left unprotected. Ill success brought, 
naturally, criticism and wholesale censure. Those who 
knew least were wisest in such matters, and had always a 
plan which, if adopted, would infallibly succeed. Constant 
changes of plans, of officers, and of troops made matters 
worse. An uncertain policy, holding out the olive-brancn 
at one time and fire and sword at another, alternately'' 
coaxing and threatening, gave to the Indians a feeling of 
distrust mingled with contempt. They thought they had 
been deceived by fair words and false professions, and they 
used the same means to further their own purposes. 

[General Armistead, who had succeeded General Taylor in corE- 
mand, asked to be relieved in May, 1841. He was succeeded by Gen- 
eral William J. Worth, the eighth commander since the war opened. 
It was an excellent choice. He quickly proved himself the man to 
bring the war to an end.] 

No more unpromising field for distinction could have 
been found than Florida presented at the period when 
General Worth was assigned to the command. As the 
number of Indians had been reduced, their tactics had 
been changed. They no longer presented themselves, as 
at first, to contest the passage of troops in the open field. 
They now found that by subdividing into small squads 
they could distract the attention of the troops, and, by 
the smallness of their number, find ready couce-.ilment and 



834 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Fairbanks 

cludj pursuit. They had become accustomed to the mode 
of conducting military operations, and knew that with 
the approach of the summer heats they would remain 
unmolested. Far down in the Everglades there were 
islands never trodden by the foot of the white man, where 
they could place their families in security and plant their 
crops ill peace. From these fastnesses they could sally 
forth on long expeditions for murder and rapine ; ac- 
quainted with coverts to which they might readily fly in 
all parts of the country, able to support themselves upon 
the abundant game, they possessed an unlimited power of 
doing mischief, and were almost as unapproachable as the 
birds in the air. Where they had been, was easily ascer- 
tained by the bodies of the slain victims and the ashes of 
destroyed homes, but where they were, it was a matter of 
impossibility to more than conjecture, and when other 
means of support failed, or it was desirable to check a too 
active movement in the direction of their camps, they had 
the convenient resort of a friendly talk and peaceful over- 
tures, accompanied with an abundant supply of whiskey 
and rations. 

[They had now, however, a man to deal with who was ready to 
profit by the experience of his predecessors, and who particularly saw 
the bad policy of going into summer quarters at the approach of the 
hot weather. He at once organized his troops for a continuous cam- 
paign. " Find the enemy, capture, or exterminate," were his orders 
to his subordinates. Major Childs had captured Coacoochee and sev- 
eral other chiefs and warriors and sent them off to Arkansas. Worth 
ordered their return, as lie wanted to make use of them. Coacoochee, 
pleased at being returned to Florida, promised to bring in his whole 
band.] 

A simultaneous movement was ordered to take place in 
each district, for the purpose of breaking up any camps 
which the Indians might have formed, destroying their 



Fairbanks] THE SEMINOLE IVAB. 335 

crops 01' stores wherever they might be found. Boat- 
detachments ascended the Withlacoochee, found several 
fields of growing crops, and destroyed them. Every 
swamp and hammock between the Atlantic and Gulf 
coasts was visited, and the band of Halleck Tustenuggee 
routed out of the Wahoo swamp. Many fields were found 
in the hammocks and islands of the Charl-Apopka country, 
with huts, palmetto sheds, and corn -cribs. Tiger Tail had 
a large field upon one of these islands, which was his reli- 
ance for the ensuing year, and from a tree in the hammock 
he witnessed its entire destruction by the troops. 

[These operations proved very harassing and destructive to the In- 
dians. Yet they resolved not to surrender, and to put to death any 
messenger who should approach them. The detachments of troops 
continued to scour the country for twenty-jfive days, with the ther- 
mometer averaging 86°, and clearly demonstrated their ability to stand 
a summer campaign. During this time they destroyed thirty-five fields 
and one hundred and eighty huts or sheds. 

General Worth now used his prisoners with good eflect. Keeping 
Coacoochee in chains, he released five of his companions, and sent them 
out with the message that unless they returned in forty days, with their 
band, he would hang the chief and all the prisoners on the last day. 
This measure proved eifective. One hundred and eighty-nine Indians 
came in, seventy-eight of them being warrioi-s.] 

Coacoochee was by no means the great warrior his 
vanity led him to estimate himself He was vain, bold, 
and cunning. General Worth had operated upon his weak 
point b}^ treating him as a great chief The general now 
proposed to make still further use of him by procuring 
his services in bringing in the other bands, which he 
thought might more easily and certainly be brought to 
surrender by negotiation than by hostile pursuit. Coacoo- 
chee having surrendered, he desired to increase his influ- 
ence at the West by carrying with him a larger force, and 
readily consented to use his influence in inducing the rest 



336 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Fairbanks 

to emigrate. At his instance, the active operations of the 
army were in some degree suspended. 

[By these and other means a considerable number of the Indians 
were secured. Worth now organized a large expedition to attack the 
stronghold of the Indians in the Big Cypress Swamp. A naval force 
accompanied the movement.] 

The examination of the hiding-places of the Indians 
was thorough and complete. The troops marched through 
swamps, deep in mud and water; their boats penetrated 
every creek and landed upon ever}^ island. The Indians, 
apprised of their presence, fled towards the coast and were 
seldom seen ; extensive fields were found and destroyed, 
and every hut and shelter burned. The Indians now sav/ 
that no hiding-place was secure, and that, with a vigilant 
and energetic commander like General Worth to deal with, 
they were to encounter war in a different form from that 
which they had previously experienced. . . . 

The following graphic summary of the Big Cypress ex- 
pedition is appended to a long and interesting diary kept 
by an officer : " Thus ended the Big Cypress campaign, 
like all others. Drove the Indians out, broke them up, 
taught them that we could go where they could ; men and 
officers worn down ; two months in water ; plunder on our 
backs ; hai"d times ; trust they are soon to end. . . . In- 
dians asking for peace in all quarters. The only reward 
we ask is the ending of the Florida War." 

[A year more of such operations ended it. All the Indians, with 
the exception of about three hundred and sixty men, women, and chil- 
dren, had been sent to Arkansas. These, under the chiefs Billy Bow- 
legs and Arpaika, were allowed to remain, within the district south of 
Pease Creek, no apprehension of further difficulties being felt.] 

The Florida War may be said to have commenced with 
the massacre of Major Dade's command, on the 28th of 



Frost] THE BATTLE OF BUENA VISTA. 337 

December, 1835, and closed, by official proclamation, on 
the 14th of August, 1842. It was generally said to have 
cost the United States forty millions of dollars. . . . Cap- 
tain Sprague, in his valuable work, states the expenditure 
at nineteen millions. . . . The number of deaths among 
the regular troops during the war amounted to an aggre- 
gate of fourteen hundred and sixty-six, of whom the very 
larcje number of two hundred and fifteen were officers. 



THE BATTLE OF BUENA VISTA. 

JOHN FROST. 

[During the period covered by our last selections events were taking 
place in another part of America in whose results the United States 
were destined to become vitally interested. The events referred to 
were the revolution in Texas and its annexation to the United States. 
This province of Spanish America had attracted many emigrants from 
the adjoining States on the east, who showed a strong rebellious senti- 
ment against the oppressive acts of the Mexican government, and in 
1835 broke out into open rebellion. A collision took place on October 
2 of that year. A war ensued, which continued with varying for- 
tunes until the following year, a Declaration of Independence being 
made by the Texans on March 2, 1836. On March 6 took place the 
famous massacre at the Alamo, and on April 21 the battle of San 
Jacinto, in which the Mexicans were badly beaten, and their general 
and president, Santa Anna, taken prisoner. He was forced, as a con- 
dition to his release, to send the Mexican troops from the country and 
to decree the cessation of hostilities. 

The independence of Texas was soon after acknowledged by the 
United States, France, and England, and in 1845, in response to a pro- 
posal from the Texan authorities, the new republic of Texas was ac- 
cepted as a State of the American Union. This action gave great 
umbrage to Mexico, which country had never acknowledged the inde- 
II. — p w 29 



1 



338 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Fkost 

pendence of Texas, and in the ensuing year collisions took place be- 
tween the armies of the two countries, on the border line of the Eio 
Grande. On May 7, 1846, a conflict occurred on Texan soil, at Palo 
Alto, and another on the ensuing day, at Kesaca de la Palma, in both 
of which the Mexicans were defeated. These events were quickly fol- 
lowed by a declaration of war on the part of the United States, and 
an army of fifty thousand volunteers was called for. 

Mexico was invaded in several directions, General Kearney march- 
ing upon Santa Fe and General Wool towards Chihuahua. The re- 
sults of these movements were the occupation of the province of New 
Mexico and the capture of the city of Chihuahua, while Fremont, 
about the same time, took possession of California. 

Meanwhile, General Taylor, with the main army, advanced, and 
laid siege to the strong city of Monterey. The assault on this city 
began on September 21, and was repeated on the 22d and 23d, the 
troops excavating their way through the stone walls of the houses. 
On the morning of the 24th the Mexican general surrendered. The 
succeeding events were the capture of Saltillo by General Worth, of 
Victoria by General Patterson, and of the port of Tampico by the fleet 
under Commodore Perry. 

A new enterprise was now projected by the government at Wash- 
ington, — the capture of Vera Cruz, and a direct march from the coast 
upon the city of Mexico. General Scott was sent out to take the chief 
command, and withdrew most of the regulars under Taylor to aid in 
this expedition. Taylor's force was now reduced to about ten thousand 
volunteers and a few companies of regulars. Meanwhile, Santa Anna 
was at San Luis Potosi, with twentj'-two thousand of the best troops 
of Mexico, prepared to oppose his advance. In early February, 1847, 
Taylor advanced with part of his force to Agua Nueva, but, learning 
that Santa Anna was marching on him with his whole army, he fell 
back to Buena Vista and took position in a strong mountain-defile. 
He had then with him four thousand seven hundred and fifty-nine 
men to oppose an army of about twenty thousand. 

Santa Anna's march to this point had been a diflBcult one, through 
deserts and over mountains, his army almost destitute of food and 
water. A speedy victory or a hasty retreat was necessary for him, for 
his men could not long be sustained in the country into which he had 
advanced. Yet he had a serious task before him, despite the small 
force of his opponents. The pass through the mountains, which the 
Americans had seized, was constricted by impassable gullies, till it was 



Frost] THE BATTLE OF BUENA VISTA. 339 

little wider than the road that traversed it, while on each side rose high 
and precipitous mountains. Three miles distant was the small village 
of Buena Vista, where the American baggage- and supply-trains were 
stationed. On February 22 the Mexican army advanced to the south- 
ern entrance to the pass, and Santa Anna sent General Taylor a sum- 
mons to surrender, which was without ceremony declined. Some 
Skirmishing took place, but the main action was reserved for the next 
day. For the description of it given below we are indebted to Frost's 
" History of Mexico and the Mexican "War."] 

At daylight on the 23d of February both armies were in 
rapid motion. General Taylor had reached Saltillo [about 
eight miles from the field of battle] on the previous night. 
Near this ]olace General Minon had manoeuvred all day, 
for the purpose of cutting off the expected retreat of the 
American army, and perhaps of making an attempt upon 
the town. In order to be prepared for any emei"gency, 
the commander appointed four companies of Illinois vol- 
unteers to garrison it, assisted by Webster's artiller}^. He 
then proceeded to Buena Vista, and ordered forward all 
the available troops from that place. 

During the night the enemy had succeeded in gaining 
the top of the mountain, where the skirmish of the pre- 
ceding evening had taken place, and in passing thence to 
the left and rear. Under cover of the night about fifteen 
hundred men had been thrown forward to the same posi- 
tion, and were now prepared for an attack upon the light 
troops of Colonel Marshall. Here the battle of the 23d 
commenced at an early hour. Heavy volleys of musketry, 
succeeded by the roar of cannon and shouts of officers, 
convinced General Wool that the left wing was to be the 
principal point of attack. The intrepid riflemen, animated 
by their commander, received the shock from the immense 
masses of the enemy with coolness, pouring back, in re- 
turn, the contents of their unerring rifles. Soon they 
were reinforced by three companies of the 2d Illinois vol- 



340 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frost 

unteers, under Major Trail. The troops covered them- 
selves behind ridges of the mountains, in positions pei'fectly 
secure from artillery, and where eveiy charge of the enem}* 
was met with advantage. 

"While this movement was going on, a heavy column 
moved along the San Luis road against the Amerieai:^ 
centre. As they marched rapidly towards this point, 
Captain "Washington opened his battery from the pass. 
So terrible was the effect that whole lines seemed to sink 
at every discharge, and long gaps in the densely-packed 
mass told of the sweeping entrance of grape and canister. 
Led on by their officers, the survivors pressed fox'ward, 
under this withering fire, until within full range of the 
captain's artillery, when the front ranks recoiled in con- 
fusion. The whole column was soon in rapid retreat, 
leaving behind masses of dead and dying. 

These, however, were but preparations for the main 
attack. During the whole morning, an immense force of 
infantry and cavalry had been concentrated among the 
ridges, and under cover of the cliffs, at the foot of the 
mountain on which Colonel Marshall was posted. They 
now commenced filing through the gorges towards the 
large plateau where Brigadier-General Lane was posted, 
with the 2d Indiana regiment, under Colonel Bowles, the 
2d Illinois regiment, and Captain O'Brien's artillery. On 
gaining the plateau the enemy rushed on in crowded 
masses, the cavalry pouring through a defile to charge 
the American infantry. Lane immediately ordered the 
Indiana regiment forward, supporting it with the artillery. 
This movement seems to have been unfortunate, as it 
separated the troops from immediate support at a most 
critical moment. The enemy perceived the error, and, 
collecting all their force in one united mass, they charged 
like an avalanche along the edge of the plateau. The 



Fkost] the battle OF EVEN A VISTA. 341 

Indiana troops had not reached the designated position, 
when Colonel Bowles, who commanded the regiment, 
without the authority of General Lane, gave the order, 
" Cease firing and 7'etj'eat." 

[The consequences were unfortunate. The regiment, once in re- 
treat, could not be rallied. A few were brought back to the field, 
but the most of them retreated to Buena Vista, and were lost to the 
remainder of the battle.] 

Unaware of the loss of his support, O'Brien galloped 
on until he arrived at the spot pointed out by General 
Lane. The spectacle from this position was sufficient to 
appall even a veteran. The hills, on every side, were alive 
with troops; horsemen were pouring over the gi'ound, 
and artillery vomiting forth floods of flaming death. The 
T'0i3ks seemed to start and topple with the hurrying mul- 
titude, and shouts of officers and men rose, like the roar 
of ocean, above the din of battle. The inti'epid O'Brien 
saw the vast host rushing towards him, and, with a quick, 
anxious glance, he turned to see where was his support. 
He was alone. With three pieces of artillery, and a few 
cannoneers, he was exposed to the shock of the huge 
multitude. If he yielded, the battle was lost, and cer- 
tain destruction seemed inevitable if he stood. Flushed 
with victory, the heavy columns of cavalry came pouring 
on from the discomfiture of the Indianians, their horses 
crowding upon each other, and surrounded on all sides by 
the dense masses of infantry. Victory was concentrated 
at this single point, and every eye on the battle-field was 
bent upon the issue. Amid the deafening uproar, the 
shrill voice of Wool was heard far in the distance, calling 
forward the troops of Illinois. The sound seemed to ani- 
mate O'Brien's little company, and they prepared for the 
fearful encounter. 

II. 29* 



342 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frost 

By this time most of the cannoneers had been killed or 
disabled, the captain had received a wound in the leg and 
two horses had fallen under him. Three thousand Mex- 
ican infantry were pouring showers of musketry upon 
him, while a battery three hundred yards to his left was 
vomiting forth grape and canister. Suddenlj^ he opened 
his fire. Companies melted before him ; alleys and gaps 
opened along all the enemy's front, and the unerring shot 
rattled upon their cannon, sweeping artillery, man, and 
horse to destruction. Struck with horror, the front col- 
umns wavered and fell back. Elated with success, O'Brien 
advanced about fifty yards, and continued his fire. The 
van paused, rallied to receive reinforcements, and again 
moved forward. In rapid succession one discharge after 
another was hurled against them ; but each gap was filled 
as soon as made, and in one desperate mass they poui-ed 
towards the captain's position. Finding it impossible 
longer to resist their progress, he gave them his last dis- 
charge, and withdrew to the American line. 

On arriving here he had not a cannoneer to work the 
guns, all having been killed or disabled. It being impos- 
sible to replace them, he was compelled to apply to Cap- 
tain Washington, who furnished him with two six-pound- 
ers. With these he again ascended the plateau, where 
he came in contact with a strong line of infantry and cav- 
alry, covered by a heavy battery. He was himself sup- 
ported by a body of infantry posted in two ravines on his 
right and left. The remainder of the American infantry 
and artillery were engaged with the enemy about half a 
mile to his left. O'Brien kept the Mexicans in check, 
while the troops to the left drove the body opposed to 
them round the head of the ravine, where they united 
with those opposed to the captain. About this time the 
latter received orders to advance, and at the same time 



Frost] THE BATTLE OF BUENA VISTA. 343 

the enemy, finding themselves strong by their junction, 
came on to meet him. 

The position of affairs was most critical, for if the Mexi- 
cans succeeded in forcing the American position the day 
was theirs. There being no artillery opposed to them but 
O'Brien's section and another piece, it was all-important 
for him to maintain his ground until the guns on the left 
could come round the ravine to join him. He determined, 
therefore, to hold this position until the enemy reached the 
muzzles of his guns. The struggle was a terrible one. 
Each party put forth its utmost strength, and the feelings 
of the soldier were wound to a pitch of enthusiasm that 
made him reckless of death itself. The enemy sank down 
by scores, and a body of lancers, charging the Illinois 
troops, were compelled to fall back. Still the main body 
rushed on, shaking the mountain-passes with the trampling 
of their armed thousands, and shouting above the up- 
roar of battle. The wounded and dying were crushed 
in their furious charge, and soon their horses were within 
a few yards of O'Brien's pieces. Here they received the 
last discharge, and as the driving hail smote their columns, 
a groan of anguish followed, and horse and rider sank 
down and rolled over the rocky surface in the arms of 
death. It was a dreadful moment, and as the columns 
swayed to and fro beneath the shock, and then sternly 
united for the headlong leap, companies that were mere 
spectators grew pale for the result. Although O'Brien 
was losing men and horses with alarming rapidity, he 
gave orders again to fire, when suddenly the few recruits 
who were fit for duty lost their presence of mind, and, 
with all his efforts, they could not be kept to the guns. 
Mortified to find the fruits of his gigantic efforts torn from 
him, the captain rode round his guns with startling quick- 
ness, urging his followers by voice and action ; but it was 



344 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frost 

in vain; no man on the field could have rallied them; and 
after staying at his post to the last, he retired slowly and 
sullenly. He lost his pieces, but by his gallant stand he 
had kept the enemy in check long enough to save the 
day. 

About the same time the 2d Illinois regiment, under 
Colonel Bissell, having been completely outflanked, was 
compelled to fall back. Colonel Mai'shall's light troops, 
on the extreme left, came down from their mountainous 
position and joined the American main army. Masses of 
cavalry and infantry were now pouring through the defiles 
on the American left, in order to gain the rear north of 
the large plateau. At this moment General Taylor arrived 
upon the field from Saltillo. As the Mexican infantry 
turned the American flank, they came in contact with 
Colonel Davis's Mississippi riflemen, posted on a plateau 
north of the principal one. The 2d Kentucky regiment, 
and a section of artillery, under Captain Bragg, had pre- 
viously been ordered to this position from the right, and 
arrived at a most important crisis. As the masses of the 
enemy emerged from the defiles to the table-land above, 
they opened upon the riflemen, and the battle soon became 
deeply interesting. The lancers meanwhile were drawing 
up for a charge. The artillery on each side was in an in- 
cessant blaze, and one sheet of sparkling fire flashed from 
the small-arms of both lines. Then the cavalry came 
dashing down, in dense columns, their dress and arms glit- 
tering in the sun, seemingly in strange contrast with their 
work of death. All around was clamor and hurry, drown- 
ing the shouts of command and groans of the dying. 
Davis gave the order to fire; a report from hundreds 
of rifles rang along his line, and mangled heaps of the 
enemy sunk to the ground. Struck with dismay, the 
lacerated host heaved back, while in mad confusion horse 



Frost] THE BATTLE OF BUENA VISTA. 345 

trod down horse, crushing wounded and dying beneath 
their hoofs in the reckless rushings of retreat. The day 
was once more saved. 

At the same time the Kentucky regiment, supported by 
Bragg's artillery, had driven back the enemy's infantry 
and recovered a portion of the lost ground. The latter 
officer then moved his pieces to the main plateau, where, 
in company with Captain Sherman, he did much execu- 
tion, particularly upon the masses that were in the rear. 
General Taylor placed all the regular cavalry and Captain 
Pike's squadron of horse under the orders of Brevet Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel May, with dii^ections to hold in check the 
enemy's column, still advancing to the rear along the base 
of the mountain. May posted himself north of the ravine 
through which the enemy were moving towards Buena 
Vista, in order to charge them as they approached that 
place. The enemy, however, still continued to advance, 
until almost the whole American artillery were plaj-ing 
upon them. At length, unable to stand the fearful slaughter, 
their ranks fell into confusion, some of the corps attempt- 
ing to effect a retreat upon their main line of battle. To 
prevent this, the general ordered the 1st dragoons, under 
Lieutenant Eucker, to ascend the deep ravine which these 
corps were endeavoring to cross, and disperse them. The 
squadron, however, were unable to accomplish their object, 
in consequence of a heavy fire from a battery covering the 
enemj^'s retreat. 

Meanwhile a large body of lancers assembled on the ex- 
treme left of the Americans, for the purpose of charging 
upon Buena Yista. To support that point. General Taylor 
ordered forward May, with two pieces of Sherman's bat- 
tery. At the same time, the scattered forces at that 
hacienda were collected by Majors Munroe and Morrison, 
and, uniting with some of the troops of the Indiana regi- 



346 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frost 

ment, they were posted to defend the position. Before 
May could reach the village, the enemy had begun the 
attack. They were gallantly opposed by the Kentucky 
and Arkansas cavalrj^, under Colonels Marshall and Yell. 
The shock was a heavy one. Colonel Tell fell at the head 
of his column, a lance entering his mouth, wrenching oif 
his lower jaw, and shattering the side of his face. The 
Kentuckians lost Adjutant Vaughan, a young officer of 
much promise. The enemy's column was separated into 
two portions, one sweeping by the American depot under 
a destructive fire from the Indiana troops, until they 
gained the mountain opposite, the other portion regaining 
the base of the mountain to the west. Lieutenant-Colonel 
May now reached Buena Yista, and, approaching the base 
of the mountain, held in check the enemy's right flank, 
upon whose masses, crowded in the narrow gorges and 
ravines, the artillery was doing fearful execution. 

The position of that portion of the Mexican army which 
had gained the American rear was now so critical as to 
induce the belief that it would be forced to surrender. At 
the moment, however, when the artillery was thinning its 
ranks, and Ma}', after much manoeuvring, was about 
charging their flank, a white flag was observed approach- 
ing the American quarters, and General Taylor ordered 
the firing to cease. The message was simply a demand 
from General Santa Anna, requesting to know what the 
American general wanted. General Wool was sent to 
have a personal interview with the Mexican general. On 
reaching the Mexican lines. Wool was unable to stop the 
enemy's farther advance, and returned to head-quarters. 
The object of the Mexicans had, however, been accom- 
plished, — their extreme right moving along the base of 
the mountain and joining the main army. . . . 

The roar of artillery, which had lasted from before sun- 



Frost] THE BATTLE OF BUENA VISTA. 347 

rise, now j)artially ceased on the principal field, the enemy 
apparently confining his efforts to the protection of his 
artillery. General Taylor had just left the main depot, 
when he was unexpectedly recalled by a heavy fire of 
musketry. On regaining his position a stirring scene was 
presented. The Illinois and 2d Kentucky cavalry had 
been attacked in a rugged defile by an overwhelming force 
of both cavalry and infantry, and were now struggling 
against fearful odds. Could the enemy succeed in defeat- 
ing these troops, they might renew the main attack with 
great advantage, and perhaps gain the day. To prevent 
the catastrophe. Captain Bragg, who had just arrived from 
the left, was immediately ordered into battery. Feeling 
how important was every moment, that brave officer 
abandoned some of his heaviest carriages, and pushed for- 
ward with those that could move most rapidly. Gaining 
a point from which they could be used, he placed them in 
battery and loaded with canistei'. His position was one 
of imminent peril. The supporting infantiy had been 
routed, the advance artillery captured, and the enemy, 
flushed with victory, were throwing their masses towards 
him. He appealed to the commanding general for help. 
None was to be had; and, nerving himself for his terrible 
duties, he returned to the battery, and spoke a few low, 
hurried words to his men. Silently but firmly they gath- 
ered round their pieces, and awaited orders. The com- 
manding general sat on horseback, gazing with thrilling 
intensity upon that handful of troops. After all the losses 
and triumphs of the day, victory had eluded their grasp, 
to hang upon the approaching struggle. 

The cavalry were almost near enough to spring upon 
his guns, when Bragg gave the order to fire. Suddenly 
they halted, staggered a few paces, and then closed for 
the charge. The shouts of their supporting infantry fol- 



348 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frost 

lowed the roar of artiller}', and they again advanced. 
The cannoneers had marked the effect, with feelings too 
intense to admit of outward expression, and, rapidly re- 
loading, they again poured forth a shower of grape. The 
effect was fearful ; and General Taylor, as he beheld the 
bleeding columns, felt that the day was his own. A third 
discharge comj^leted the rout. Discipline gave way among 
the enemy to the confused flight of terrified hosts, as, 
pouring through the rugged passes, they trod each other 
down in their hurried course. One wild shout went up 
from the American army, broken at short intervals by the 
thunder of Bragg's artillery. . . . 

In the retreat of the enemy, a portion of the American 
infantry pursued them through a ravine so far that they 
got out of supporting distance. On seeing this, the Mexi- 
cans suddenly wheeled round and attacked them. The 
infantry were in their turn driven back, taking the course 
of another ravine, at the end of which a body of the 
enemy were waiting to intercept them. Fortunately, 
while the cavalry were pursuing, they came within range 
of Washington's battery, which, opening upon them with 
grape, drove back the column in confusion and saved the 
exhausted fugitives. 

This was the last struggle on the well-fought field of 
Buena Yista. For ten hours the battle had raged with 
unmitigated fury, and yet, strange to say, each army oc- 
cupied the ground that it had early in the morning. As 
night crept among the rocky gorges, the wearied soldiers 
sank down on their arms upon the field. Although the 
air was excessively cold, the Americans slept without fires, 
expecting a renewal of the attack early on the following 
morning. The night was one of hoi-ror. On every rock, 
and in every defile, piles of dead and wounded laj^, the 
lalter writhing in torture, their wounds stiff and clotted 



Frost] THE BATTLE OF BUENA VISTA. 3^9 

with the chill air, while their piercing cries for aid, and 
supplications for water, made the night hideous. 

[The expected renewal of the assault by the Mexicans the next day 
was not made. Santa Anna found his men worn out with fatigue, 
burning with thirst, and starving for want of food. And they had 
suffered too severely in the battle to be in a condition to endure another 
conflict. Before daylight he was in full retreat, leaving the well-won 
field to the victorious Americans. After their failure to carry the 
American position, desertion became so extreme in the Mexican host 
as to threaten to disorganize the army, and another battle would have 
been ruinous. The losses in this conflict on the American side were 
two hundred and sixty-seven killed, four hundred and fifty-six wounded, 
and twenty-three missing. Santa Anna stated his loss at fifteen 
hundred, but it was probably greater. 

It may be remarked here that the task of Santa Anna in this battle 
was one that fully overcame the disparity in numbers. The pass of 
Angostura, occupied by Washington's battery, is one of the strongest 
in Mexico, and capable of being defended by a small party against 
great odds. The American right wing was posted with one flank 
against the precipitous mountains and the other resting on impassable 
ravines, while it could only be approached over broken and exposed 
ground. The plateau which formed the key of the American position 
was high and commanding, and could be reached only through intri- 
cate windings among the rock ledges. 

There was no other victory of the war received with such enthusi- 
asm in the United States, and Buena Vista carried General Taylor to 
the Presidency. It ended the war in that region of Mexico, Santa 
Anna being now called southward, to defend the capital from the 
projected invasion of General Scott, by way of Vera Cruz. 

The remaining events of the war were a constant series of successes. 
General Scott, with the army under his command, landed near Vera 
Cruz on March 9, 1847. He forced this city to surrender on the 27th, 
and on April 8 began an overland march towards the city of Mexico. 
On April 18 Santa Anna was seriously repulsed at Cerro Gordo, and 
in August the American army reached the immediate vicinity of the 
Mexican capital. On the 18th the formidable Mexican intrenchments 
at Contreras were carried by assault, and on the same day the im- 
portant post of Churubusco was carried. On September 8 the fortress 
II. 30 



I 



350 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

known as the Molino del Rey was captured, and on the 13th the very 
strong fortifications on the hill of Chapultepec were carried by an 
impetuous and daring assault. 

On the same day an advance on the city took place, and by nightfall 
the American troops were within its gates. The capture of the city 
was fully achieved during the ensuing day. This result virtually 
ended the war, though some minor military movements followed. A 
treaty of peace was signed on the 2d of February, 1848, and was rati- 
fied on May 30. Under its provisions the United States gained a 
large accession of territory, embracing all New Mexico and Upper 
California. In return the United States suiTcndered all other con- 
quered territory, paid Mexico fifteen million dollars, and assumed all 
debts owed by Mexico to American citizens.] 



EVENTS PRECEDING THE CIVIL WAR. 

CHARLES MORRIS. 

The remaining events of the social and political history 
of the period covered by the preceding selections are too 
numerous to give each of them separate treatment, in the 
limited space at our command. It therefore becomes neces- 
sary to deal with them in a rapid review, as preliminary 
to the momentous historical era of the Civil War. Among 
the most important of these events was the financial panic 
of 1837, a startling result of the unbounded speculation, 
and the executive experiments on the finances, of the pre- 
ceding epoch. The first era of bank-expansion in the 
United States was due to the abrogation of the charter of 
the National Bank in 1811, and to the business activity 
which followed the close of the second war with Great 
Britain. A second National Bank was instituted in 1817. 
The undue extension of banking facilities which existed 
during this period was followed in 1819 by a necessary 



MoREis] EVENTS PRECEDING THE CIVIL WAR. 351 

contraction. The bank circulation fell from 8110,000,000 
in 1816 to $65,000,000 in 1819. Financial distress and a 
general depression of industry succeeded, from which the 
country did not fully recover for several years. 

When Jackson became President, in 1829, he very quickly 
manifested an enmity to the National Bank, which he de- 
clared to be corrupt, dangerous, and unconstitutional. His 
first hostile measure was to remove from it the govern- 
ment deposits, which he distributed among the State banks. 
This measure produced a storm of opposition, greatly dis- 
turbed the conditions of business, and caused general dis- 
tress in the industrial community. But Jackson was un- 
yieldingly obstinate in his opinions, and his hostility to 
the bank was next displayed in a veto of the bill to renew 
its charter, which would expire on March 3, 1836. The 
State banks took advantage of this condition of affairs to 
expand greatly their discounts, new banks came rapidly 
into existence, and the banking facilities were enormously 
increased, the discounts augmenting from $200,000,000 in 
1830 to £ 525,000,000 eight years afterwards. 

A series of wild speculations attended this expansion : 
foreign goods were heavily imported, and enormous oper- 
ations took place in government lands, in payment for 
which paper money poured profusely into the treasury. 
Such was the state of affairs at midsummer of 1836. To 
check these operations a " specie circular" was issued by 
the Secretary of the Treasurj^, which required payment 
for government lands to be made in gold and silver after 
August 15, 1836. The effect of this series of executive 
actions, and of the fever of speculation which existed, was 
disastrous. The specie which was expected to flow into 
the treasury in payment for public lands failed to appear. 
The banks refused discounts and called in their loans. 
Property was everywhere sacrificed, and prices generally 



352 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

declined. Then, like an avalanche suddenly falling upon 
the land, came the business crash and panic of 1837, which 
caused the financial ruin of thousands. During the first 
three weeks of April two hundred and fifty business houses 
failed in New York. Within two months the failures in 
that cit}^ alone aggregated nearly one hundred millions of 
dollars. Throughout the whole country the mercantile 
interests went down with a general crash, involving the 
mechanic, the farmer, even the humblest laborer, in the 
ruinous consequences of the disaster. Bankruptcy every- 
where prevailed, forced sacrifice of valuable merchandise 
was the order of the day, no less than eight of the States 
partially or wholly failed, even the general government 
could not pay its debts, trade stood still, business confi- 
dence vanished, and ruin stalked unchecked over the land. 
The panic of 1837 was not due solely to the causes 
above enumerated. Manj' influences converged to pro- 
duce this i-esult, and to give rise to the fever of specula- 
tion which was its immediate predecessor. As one of its 
results the banking system of the country suffered a gen- 
eral collapse. Out of eight hundred and fifty banks, three 
hundred and forty-three closed entirely, sixty-two failed 
partially, and the system of State banks received a shock 
from which it never fully recovered. The compromise 
tariff of 1833, through Avhich the tariff was to be annually 
reduced until it should reach a general twenty per cent, 
level in 1842, added to the distress, and recovery only 
fairly took place after 1842, in which year a new tariff 
bill was passed, imposing a thirty per cent, ad-valorem 
rate on all imported goods except in certain special cases. 
In 1846 a low tariff bill was again passed, which continued 
in force until 1860, when in the Morrill tariff bill was re- 
sumed the protective principle which has been ever since 
maintained. 



Morris] EVENTS PRECEDING THE CIVIL WAR. 35L5 

During the era in question the settlement of the broad 
territory of the West had been taking place with great 
rapidity, the pioneer emigration, which had long since 
crossed the Alleghanies and spread throughout the eastern 
valley of the Mississippi, now extending widely westward 
of that river towards the infertile barrier of the Eocky 
Mountains. The movement had even reached the Pacific, 
through the incitements of the fur-trade, and of certain 
advantages offered by the rich plains of California. Yet 
the American population of this region was but sparse in 
1848, in which year California became a part of the United 
States, as a result of the Mexican War. Emigration 
thither now proceeded more rapidly, while the neighbor- 
ing territory of Utah became the land of refuge of the 
strange sect of Mormons, who had made their way thither 
in 1846 and founded Salt Lake City in 1847. The settle- 
ment of the Pacific region, however, must have taken place 
very slowly had it not been for the discovery of gold in 
the mountain region of that territory. The cry of " Gold," 
that rang far and wide throughout the land in the summer 
and autumn of 1848, gave rise to such a fever of emigra- 
tion as the world has seldom known. Over land and over 
sea thousands of eager treasure-seekers flocked to this 
new land of promise, and within one year of American 
occupation the land filled up more than it had done in 
three centuries of the drowsy Spanish rule. 

On January 19, 1848, James W. Marshall discovered the 
glittering yellow fragments, which gave rise to this furore 
of emigration, in a mill-race which he was excavating for 
Captain Sutter, at Coloma. Investigation proved that 
gold existed in great abundance throughout a broad region, 
and ere a year had passed thousands of fortune-seekers 
were already actively at work, washing treasure out of 
the sands of ancient rivers, whose waters had ceased to 
II.— a; 30* 



354 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

flow ages before. The story of the "gold rush" to Cali- 
fornia is one of extraordinary interest, and the scenes to 
which it gave rise are almost without example in the 
annals of mankind, excejit in the closely similar case of 
the Australian gold discovery. A few years, however, 
began to exhaust the "placer," or surface, diggings of 
California, and new methods of mining, requiring consid- 
erable capital, had to be resorted to. The " hydraulic 
process" was invented in 1852, the " high gravels" being 
broken down by the force of powerful jets of water, con- 
ducted through pipes from mountain streams and lakes. 
Quartz mining also came into vogue, the metallic veins 
being worked and the gold extracted by difficult and costly 
processes. Rich deposits of silver were also discovered, 
particularly in Nevada and Colorado. The era of indi- 
vidual fortune-hunting was over, but enormous wealth still 
lay buried in the rocks of the region, and emigration pro- 
ceeded with unexampled rapidity, peopling the Pacific 
Territories in a ratio far exceeding anything ever experi- 
enced in the settlement of the Atlantic slope. Agriculture 
slowly succeeded the mining fever, the rich soil of Cali- 
fornia proving to hold a wealth more valuable than that 
contained within its rocks. The vast forests of the Pacific 
coast ranges also proved treasure-mines. In consequence 
of these various inducements to population the Far West 
has, within forty years, become the home of an extensive 
and flourishing population. State after State has been 
added to the Union in that distant region, railroads and 
telegraphs have been stretched across the continent, and 
in response to the magic cry of " Clold" an immense and 
thickly-peopled domain has been added to the territory of 
the United States of America. 

There is one further phase of American history, to 
which our attention is particularly called, from its mo- 



Morris] EVENTS PRECEDING THE CIVIL WAR. 355 

mentous importance as the producing cause of the Civil 
War. This is the development of Abolitionism, and the 
bitter controversies to which it gave rise. The sentiment 
in favor of slave-manumission died away in great measure 
after the passage of the Missouri Compromise Bill in 1820, 
and, though it was kept feebly alive, it failed to become a 
question of national importance until after the close of the 
Mexican War. A feeling in favor of "gradual abolition" 
existed in some measure both South and North until 1830. 
though no steps were taken towards its realization. The 
doctrine of immediate abolition was first openly promul- 
gated by William Lloyd Garrison, in The Liberator, a 
newspaper of which the first number was issued on Jan- 
uary 1, 1831. Anti-slavery societies were soon after 
formed, but the cause which they advocated met with 
great opposition in the North during the succeeding 
twenty years, the meetings of the abolitionists being vio- 
lently broken up, and their lives occasionally endangered. 
The political strength of the abolition idea was first made 
manifest in 1844, when the candidate of the so-called 
Liberty party polled 62,300 votes, enough to defeat Clay 
and make Polk President of the United States. 

It was, however, the close of the Mexican War, and the 
consequent large addition of territory to the United States, 
that brought the question of slaver^'-extension prominently 
before Congi-css, and opened that series of hostile debates 
which ended only with the Southern declaration of war. 
In the discussion of the treaty with Mexico, David Wilmot 
of Pennsj'lvania proposed to add to the appropriation bill 
the proviso that slavery should be prohibited in any terri- 
tory which might be acquired in consequence of the war. 
This " Wilmot Proviso" was defeated in the Senate, but 
was received with much approbation in the North. The 
opponents of slavery organized themselves, in 1848, into 



356 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morri? 

the Free Soil party, which in the ensuing Presidential 
election polled 300,000 votes for its candidate. Van Buren. 
It sent Charles Sumner and Salmon P. Chase to the 
Senate, and a considerable number of members to the 
House of Kepresentatives. 

The rapid settlement of Cahfornia and the West soon 
became a disturbing element in the situation. The people 
of Oregon organized a provisional Territorial government, 
from which slavery was excluded, A convention held in 
California in 1849 adopted a similar measure, and an appli- 
cation was made to Congress for admission of the Territory 
as a State with this proviso in its Constitution. A fierce 
debate followed, the Southern extremists insisting on the 
organization of California, Utah, and New Mexico, as 
Territories, with no restriction as to slavery. The Fi-ee 
Soilers and many others demanded that California should 
be admitted as a State, and that Territoi-ial governments 
prohibiting slavery should be given to Utah and New 
Mexico. The dispute ended in a compromise bill proposed 
by Henry Cla}^, and accepted by Congress, in whose meas- 
ures California was admitted as a free State, Utah and 
New Mexico organized as Territories without restriction 
as to slavery, the sale of slaves in the Distinct of Colum- 
bia prohibited, and provision made for the return of fugi- 
tive slaves from Northern States. 

For a while everything seemed settled: the compromise 
was spoken of as a finality, and a state of public feeling 
prevailed which greatly discouraged anti-slaver}- agitation. 
In the succeeding Presidential election the Free Soil ticket 
received but 151,000 votes, and the party ended its politi- 
cal existence, to be absorbed in 1855 into the Kepublican 
party, a new and strongly-consolidated organization, which 
was destined to become famous in the succeeding history 
of the country. 



Morris] EVENTS PRECEDING THE CIVIL WAR. 357 

Yet the Fugitive Slave proviso of the compromise bill 
proved a rankling thorn which gave abundant activity to 
the anti-slavery sentiment in the North. For years pre- 
viously slaves had been at intervals escaping to the free 
States, where they found numerous friends to secrete them 
or assist them in their journey to the safe soil of Canada. 
The organization for the aid and secretion of fugitive 
slaves in time became very complete, and received the 
name of the " underground railroad." Few slaves who 
crossed the bordei'-line were recovered by their masters, 
partly from the efficient measures of concealment taken 
by their friends, and partly from the disinclination of the 
State and local authorities to assist pursuers, and the legal 
obstructions which were occasionally placed in their path. 

Massachusetts passed a law to secure to such fugitives 
trial by jury. Pennsylvania passed a law against kidnap- 
ping. A decision was finally made in the United States 
Supreme Court which gave to the owner of a slave au- 
thority to recapture him in any State of the Union, 
without regard to legal processes. Yet little benefit was 
gained by the South from this decision. The States readily 
obeyed the mandate against interference. Some of them 
forbade their courts to hear claims of this character, and 
laid severe penalties on officers who should arrest or jailers 
who should detain alleged fugitive slaves. The difficulty 
thus produced was obviated in the Fugitive Slave Law of 
1850. Commissioners were appointed by the United States 
to hear such cases, and marshals and their deputies were 
required to execute warrants for the arrest of fugitives, 
with a penalty equal to the full value of the slave if they 
should suffer one to escape after arrest. Other features 
of this bill increased its stringency, and under its provis- 
ions there was little hinderance to a free negro being kid- 
napped and taken South as a slave. The commissioners 



358 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

in certain cases refused to listen to evidence in favor of 
the freedom of the alleged fugitive. 

A law thus enforced could not fail to arouse indignation, 
even in those devoid of anti-slavery sj^mpathies. Cases 
of the arrest of fugitives took place in many parts of the 
Northern States, in which the requirements of ordinary 
law and humanity were disregarded, and the captives car- 
ried South with little or no effort to prove that they were 
the persons claimed as fugitives. Hundreds, in all parts 
of the North, who had viewed the controversy with in- 
difference and looked upon the abolitionists as a band of 
wild radicals, had their sympathies awakened by cases of 
this kind occurring in their own neighborhoods ; and there 
can be no doubt that the operation of the Pugitive Slave 
Law, while it saved to the South a certain portion of its 
flying property, greatly added to Northern hostility to 
slavery, and backed up the ardent abolitionists with an 
extensive body of moderate sj'mpathizers. 

In December, 1853, a bill was introduced into Congress 
by Ml'. Dodge, a Senator from Iowa, for the organization 
of the Territory of Nebraska. Mr. Dixon, of Kentucky, 
projDosed, as an amendment to this bill, to abrogate the 
Missouri Compromise and permit the citizens of the South- 
ern States to take and hold their slaves within any of the 
new Territories or the States formed therefrom. On Jan- 
uarj' 23, 1854, the bill was reported back from committee 
by Mr. Douglas, modified to propose the formation of two 
Territories, the southern to be called Kansas and the 
northern Nebraska. It retained the principle of the 
Dixon amendment, and for four months thereafter a hot 
debate was maintained in the halls of Congress. Despite 
the utmost efforts of Northern members, and the numer- 
ous petitions from the best element of the Northern peo- 
ple, the bill was carried by the South, the comj)romise 



Morris] EVENTS PRECEDING THE CIVIL WAR. 359 

measure which had been accepted as a finahty for thirty- 
five years flung to the winds, and the whole territory from 
the Mississippi to the Eocky Mountains thrown open as a 
new field of battle between the advocates of slavery and 
freedom. In 1857 the South gained another victor}", in 
the decision of the Supreme Court in the Dred Scott ease, 
in which the Missouri Compromise was declared to be 
unconstitutional, the action recently taken by Congress 
being thus sustained by the highest tribunal in the land. 

The truce between slaveiy and freedom which had been 
maintained for thirty-five years was broken. The war was 
about to recommence with tenfold energy. The events 
above described had very greatly strengthened the aboli- 
tion party in the North, and all other questions of public 
policy grew unimportant before the imminent demands 
of this. A reorganization of parties became necessary. 
The old Whig party had received its death-blow. The 
Democratic party divided into two sections, on new lines. 
Finally the Free Soilers and a section of the Whigs and 
Democrats fused together in opposition to the new ag- 
gressive attitude of slavery, and the Eepublican jDarty 
came into existence, while the pro-slavery members of the 
old parties joined hands as a modified Democrac}'. The 
country was drifting it knew not whither. The armies 
were in the field, arrayed for legislative battle, and the 
hot and bitter sentiment that was widely manifested was 
full of the elements of actual war. 

The first j)hase of hostility declared itself on the soil 
of Kansas, organized as a Territory on May 30, 1854. 
The decision that slavery might be introduced there led 
to wai'like conflicts between settlers from the Northern 
States and armed parties from the adjoining slave State 
of Missouri. An organized effort had been made by the 
anti-slavery societies of the North to secure Kansas, by 



360 AMERICAN HISTORY. [MoRRis 

colonization with emigrants of abolition sentiments. Mis- 
souri made an equallj^ strong effort to secure it to slavery, 
but rather by violence than by colonization. An armed 
band of two hundred and fifty Missourians marched upon 
the settlers at the new town of Lawrence, and threatened 
to drive them out at the point of the bayonet if they did 
not immediately strike their tents and leave the Tei-ritory. 
They refused to do so, and their assailants retired, without 
carrying out their threat. But this battle of words was 
followed by a series of sanguinary assaults ujDon the set- 
tlers, in which a state of actual war was inaugurated. 

An election for a Teri'itorial legislature was ordered in 
1855. The slave-holders of Missouri and Arkansas at 
once adopted a new expedient. They entered the Terri- 
tory in large bands, took possession of the polling-places, 
drove the actual settlers from the polls, and cast their 
votes in favor of pro-slavery candidates. Though the 
settlers numbered but 2905 voters, there were cast at this 
mockery of an election 6320 votes. In 1857 the pro- 
slavery legislature met, formed a Constitution, submitted 
it to the people, and ratified it at an election in which 
no votes in opposition were allowed or counted. This 
fraudulent operation was endorsed by the administration, 
but it was soon proved that the Free State settlers of 
Kansas were too greatly in the majority to be thus dealt 
with. A convention was held at Wyandotte in 1859, in 
the election of whose members, though many fraudulent 
j)ro-slavery votes were again polled, the Free State party 
gained a decided majority. A Constitution was adopted 
in which slavery was prohibited. This was submitted 
to popular suffrage, and carried by a vote of 10,421 for to 
5530 against. In 1860, after the withdrawal of the South- 
ern members from Congress, the State was admitted under 
this Constitution. 



Morris] EVENTS PRECEDING THE CIVIL WAR. 361 

The story of abolition may here be briefly ended. From 
being a Congressional issue it had been made a warlike 
issue in Kansas. This violent method was carried to the 
halls of Congress, where, in May, 1856, Charles Sumner 
delivered one of his most vigorous and telling speeches on 
" The Crime against Kansas." As a result he was assailed 
by Preston S. Brooks of South Carolina, knocked down 
with a heavy cane, and beaten so severely that he never 
fully recovered from the effects. This cowardly and out- 
rageous assault added greatly to the earnestness of aboli- 
tion sentiment in the North, and had its share in arousing 
that fanatical outbreak in which John Brown seized Har- 
per's Ferry and attempted to excite a slave-insurrection. 
This event will be considered at length in a succeeding 
article. 

In the Presidential election of 1860 the rapid growth 
of anti-slavery sentiment in the North was evidenced in 
the election of Abraham Lincoln, the Eepublican candidate, 
to the Presidency, while the bitterness of hostile feeling in 
the South was indicated in the secession movements that 
quickly followed. Though it was declared by Congress, 
after the outbreak of the war, that hostihties were not 
prosecuted with any intention of interfering with the 
"established institutions" of the seceding States, yet it 
proved impossible to keep measures of abolition out of the 
contest. 

Slavery was at first dealt wnth from the immediate 
stand-point of war. Slave property employed in acts 
against the government was declared confiscated, the army 
was forbidden to return fugitive slaves, and slavery was 
abolished in the District of Columbia and in the Terri- 
tories. Later, the employment of negroes as soldiers was 
authoi'ized. Two army commanders, Fremont in Missouri 
and Hunter in South Carolina, took it upon themselves to 
II.— Q 31 



362 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

issue proclamations abolishing slavery within their fields 
of command. This unauthorized action was disavowed 
by the President. Though in favor of abolition, he be- 
lieved that slave-holders ought to be compensated for their 
lost property, and in December, 1862, he offered to the 
consideration of Congress three .constitutional amend- 
ments, in which he proposed to compensate States which 
should abolish slavery before 1900 and to colonize free 
negroes out of the country. Though these recommenda- 
tions were not considered, yet gi-adual emancipation was 
incorporated in 1862 in the Constitution of West Virginia, 
and in that of Missouri in 1863. Maryland, in 1864, 
adopted immediate abolition. On September 22, 1862, 
President Lincoln issued a preliminary proclamation, and 
on January 1, 1863, a final one, definitely abolishing 
slavery in the hostile States, with the exception of the 
parishes of Louisiana and the counties of Virginia which 
were then within the Union lines. Though it has been 
claimed that the President had neither constitutional nor 
physical power to abolish slavery in these States, and that 
therefore his action was nugatory, yet its effect proved 
sufficiently positive. As the Federal armies advanced, 
slaveiy disappeared behind them. Of the slave States not 
included in the proclamation, Kentucky and Delaware 
alone took no action on the subject of slavery, but the 
institution was everywhere near its death. On April 8, 
1864, the thirteenth amendment to the Constitution, abol- 
ishing slavery within the limits of the United States, was 
off'ered in Congress, and in 1865 it was ratified by thirty- 
one of the thirty-six States. The work begun hy The 
Liberator in 1830 was thus completed, and every man, 
woman, and child within the United States of America 
was declared free from the date of December 18, 1865. 



Greeley] THE RAID UPON HARPER'S FERRY. 363 



SECTION X. 

THE ERA OF CIVIL WAR. 



JOHN BROWN AND THE RAID UPON HARPER'S FERRY. 

HOKACE GREELEY. 

[The first blood shed in the war between freedom and slavery was 
that spilled upon the soil of Kansas. In this conflict one of the most 
active and earnest of the Free State party was the afterwards famous 
John Brown, a man whose hatred of slaverj' reached the height of 
fanaticism. Pour of his sons had settled in Kansas, near the site of 
the village of Osawatomie, in 1854. Finding themselves greatly har- 
assed by the invading Missourians, they wrote to their father for arms. 
Instead of sending them, he brought them, and quickly placed himself 
at the head of an armed opposition to the invaders. 

On August 30, 1856, the village of Osawatomie was attacked by a 
large body of well-armed Missourians. It was defended by about 
thirty Free State men. John Brown led this little party, and posted 
them in an advantageous position on the banks of the Osage Eiver. 
In the fight that ensued the invaders sufi'ered severely, while the de- 
fenders lost but five or six, one of Brown's sons being killed. His 
party was driven out, and the village burned. Six weeks after, another 
encounter took place, near Lawrence, in which Brown succeeded in 
repelling a greatly outnumbering force of assailants. 

He afterwards returned to the East, where he held conferences with 
the leading abolitionists, to some of whom he made known a purpose 
to invade Virginia, with the design of arousing the slaves to an effort 
to obtain their freedom. A committee was appointed to procure the 
means for this enterprise. Shortly after Brown held a secret convention 
of white and black abolitionists at Chatham, Canada, which adopted a 
" Provisional Constitution" embodying regulations for the proposed in- 



I 



364 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Greelet 

vasion. In a meeting of the committee, on May 24, 1858, it was agreed 
to raise funds and to supply Brown with rifles. As nothing could be 
done at that time, he returned to Kansas, for the purpose of aiding the 
Free State settlers. Here, learning that a family of slaves, just beyond 
the Missouri border, were about to be sold and sent to Texas, he in- 
vaded that State with twenty men, and liberated these and some others 
During this raid a Missourian, who had resisted the invaders, was 
killed. This event roused a strong feeling of indignation, the more 
moderate Free State men disavowed all sympathy with the act, and 
Brown soon found Kansas too hot to hold him. He left the Territory 
in January, 1859, accompanied by four white men and three negroes, 
with some women and children. He was sharply pursued by thirty 
pro-slavery men from Lecompton. Brown took possession of two log 
huts, and faced his adversaries, who were soon joined by twelve addi- 
tional men from Atchison. On these forty-two Brown and his seven 
companions made a sudden sally, when the assailants turned and fled 
without firing a shot, — probably aware of the fact that reinforcements 
were hastening to Brown's aid. Four only of them stood their ground. 
These were made prisoners, and forced to deliver their horses to Brown's 
negroes. At this they swore so profusely that the stern old Puritan 
ordered them to kneel and pray, his presented pistol overcoming their 
scruples against this exercise. They swore no more, though he held 
them prisoners for five days, compelling them, by the same potent ar- 
gument, to kneel and pray night and morning. 

On reaching the East again he received from the secret committee 
about two thousand dollars. The whole amount raised for the expedi- 
tion was about four thousand dollars in money and nearly twice that 
V£.^'in in arms, most of it given with full knowledge of the purpose 
intended. Being now prepared for the execution of his desperate 
scheme. Brown repaired to Harper's Ferry, near which he rented, 
under the name of Smith, three unoccupied houses on a farm. Here 
he was gradually joined by the companions whom he had enlisted for 
the enterprise. Most of these kept out of sight during the day, while 
arms and munitions ^vere brought from Chambersburg in well-secured 
boxes. The time originally fixed for the assault on Harper's Ferry was 
the night of October 24, 1859, but it was made on the 17th, for reasons 
satisfactory to the leader. The arsenal at this place held a large store 
of government arms, on which account, and probably from its natural 
strength, it was selected as a good central point for the rallying of the 
slaves who Brown must have felt assured would immediately join him. 



Greeley] THE RAID UPON HARPERS FERRY. 365 

An account of the circumstances which followed we select from the 
historical work of a prominent advocate of anti-slavery, the " Ameri- 
can Conflict" of Horace Greeley.] 

On Saturday, the 15tb, a council was held, and a plau 
of operations discussed. On Sunday evening another 
council was held, and the prograname of the chief unani- 
mously approved. He closed it with these words : " And 
now, gentlemen, let me press this one thing upon your 
minds. You all know how dear life is to you, and how 
dear your lives are to your friends ; and, in remembering 
that, consider that the lives of others are as dear to them 
as yours are to you. Do not, therefore, take the life of 
any one if you can possibly avoid it; but, if it is necessary 
to take life in order to save your own, then make sure 
work of it." . . . 

The forces with which Brown made his attack consisted 
of seventeen white and five colored men, though it is said 
that others who escaped assisted outside, by cutting the 
telegraph-wires and tearing up the railroad-track. Tho 
entrance of this petty army into Harper's Ferry on Sun- 
day evening, October 16th, seems to have been effected 
without creating alarm. They first rapidly extinguished 
the lights of the town, then took possession of the Armory 
buildings, which were only guarded by three watch men, 
whom, without meeting resistance or exciting alarm, they 
seized and locked up in the guard-house. It is probable 
that they were aided, or, at least, guided, by friendly 
negroes belonging in the village. At half-past ten the 
watchman at the Potomac bridge was seized and secui*ed. 
At midnight his successor, arriving, was hailed by Brown's 
sentinels, but ran, one shot being fired at him from the 
bridge. Ho gave the alarm, but still nothing stirred. At 
a quarter-past one the western train arrived, and its con- 
ductor found the bridge guarded by armed men. He and 
II. 31* 



1 



366 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Greeley 

Others attempted to walk across, but were turned back by 
presented rifles. One man. a negro, was shot in the back, 
and died next morning. The passengers took refuge in 
the hotel, and i-emained there several hours, the conductor 
properly refusing to pass the train over, though permitted, 
at three o'clock, to do so. 

A little after midnight the house of Colonel Washington 
was visited by six of Brown's men, under Captain Stevens, 
who captured the colonel, seized his arms, horses, etc., and 
liberated his slaves. On their return Stevens and his 
party visited the house of Mr. Alstadt and his son, whom 
they captured, and freed their slaves. These, with each 
male citizen as he appeared in the street, were confined in 
the Armory until they numbered between forty and fifty. 
Brown informed his prisoners that they could be liberated 
on condition of writing to their friends to send a negro 
apiece as ransom. At daylight the train proceeded. Brown 
walking over the bridge with the conductor. Whenever 
any one asked the object of their captors, the uniform 
answer was, " To free the slaves ;" and when one of the 
workmen, seeing an armed guard at the Arsenal gate, 
asked by what authority they had taken possession of the 
public property, he was answered, " By the authority of 
God Almighty!" 

The passenger-train that sped eastward from Harper's 
Ferry, by Brown's permission, in the early morning of 
Monday, October 17th, left that place completely in the 
military possession of the insurrectionists. They held, 
without dispute, the Arsenal, with its offices, workshops, 
and grounds. Their sentinels stood on guard at the bridges 
and principal corners, and were seen walking up and down 
the streets. Every workman who ignorantly approached 
the Armory, as day dawned, was seized and imprisoned, 
with all other white males who seemed capable of making 



Greeley] THE RAID UPON HARPERS FERRY. 3G7 

any trouble. By eight o'clock the number of prisoners 
had been swelled to sixty-odd, and the work was still pro- 
ceeding. 

But it was no longer entirely one-sided. The white 
Virginians, who had arms, and who remained unmolested 
in their houses, prepared to use them. Soon after day- 
break, as Brown's guards were bringing two citizens to a 
halt, they were fired on by a man named Turner, and, 
directly afterward, by a grocer named Boerly. who was 
instantly killed by the return fire. Several Yirginians 
soon obtained possession of a room overlooking the Armory 
gates, and fired thence at the sentinels who guarded them, 
one of whom fell dead, and another — Brown's son "Watson 
— was mortally wounded. Still, throughout the forenoon, 
the liberators remained masters of the town. 

[Whatever the expectations of the invaders, they had already failed. 
The negroes whom they must have looked for to flock to their standard 
did not come. To remain in that position was suicidal. No hope 
was left but in flight. Yet Brown held his ground. Meanwhile, the 
country was rising.] 

Half an hour after noon a militia force, one hundred 
strong, arrived from Charlestown, the county seat, and 
were i*apidly disposed so as to command every available 
exit from the place. In taking the Shenandoah bridge 
they killed one of the insurgents, and captured William 
Thompson unwounded. The rifle-works were next at- 
tacked, and speedily carried, being defended by five insur- 
gents only. These attemj^ted to cross the river, and four 
of them succeeded in reaching a rock in the middle of it, 
whence they fought with two hundred Yirginians, who 
lined the banks, until two of them were dead and a third 
mortally wounded, when the fourth surrendered. 

[The fight continued daring the day, men being killed on both sides. 



368 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Greeley 

The Virginia militia was being hourly reinforced, and Brown, finding 
himself strongly beleaguered, retreated to the engine-house, where he 
repulsed his assailants, who lost two killed and six wounded.] 

Still militia continued to pour in, the telegraph and rail- 
road having been completely repaired, so that the govern- 
ment at Washington, Governor Wise at Eichmond, and 
the authorities at Baltimore were in immediate communi- 
cation with Harper's Ferry, and hurrying forward troo])9 
from all quarters to overwhelm the remaining handful 
of insurgents, whom terror and rumor had multiplied to 
twenty times their actual number. At five p.m. Captain 
Simms arrived, with militia from Maryland, and completed 
the investment of the Armor}^ buildings, whence eighteen 
prisoners had already been liberated upon the retreat of 
Brown to the engine-house. Colonel Baylor commanded 
in chief The firing ceased at nightfall. Brown offered to 
liberate his prisonei-s upon condition that his men should 
be permitted to cross the bridge in safety, which was re- 
fused. Night found Brown's forces reduced to three un- 
wounded whites besides himself, with perhaps half a dozen 
negroes from the vicinity. Eight of the insurgents were 
already dead ; another lay dying beside the survivors ; two 
were captives mortally wounded, and one other unhurt. 
Around the few survivors were fifteen hundred armed, in- 
furiated foes. Half a dozen of the party, who had been 
sent out at early morning by Brown to capture slave- 
holders and liberate slaves, were absent, and unable, even 
if willing, to join their chief They fled during the night 
to Maryland and Pennsylvania; but most of them were 
ultimately captured. During that night Colonel [Eobert 
E.] Lee, with ninety United States marines and two pieces 
of artillery, arrived, and took possession of the Armory 
ground, very close to the engine-house. 

Brown, of course, remained awake and alert through 



Greeley] THE RAID UPON HARPER'S FERRY. 369 

the night, discomfited and beyond earthly hope, but per- 
fectly cool and calm. Said Governor Wise, in a speech 
at Richmond soon after, " Colonel Washington said that 
Brown was the coolest man he ever saw in defying death 
and danger. With one son dead by his side, and another 
shot through, he felt the pulse of his dying son Avith one 
hand, held his rifle with the other, and commanded his 
men with the utmost composure, encouraging them to be 
firm, and to sell their lives as dearly as possible." . . . 

At seven in the morning, after a parley which resulted 
in nothing, the marines advanced to the assault, broke in 
the door of the engine-house by using a ladder as a batter- 
ing-ram, and rushed into the building. One of the de- 
fenders was shot, and two marines wounded ; but the odds 
were too great ; in an instant all I'esistance was over. 
Brown was struck in the face with a sabre and knocked 
down, after which the blow was several times repeated, 
while a soldier ran a baj'onet twice into the old man's 
body. All the insurgents, it is said, would have been 
killed on the spot, had the Virginians been able to dis- 
tinguish them with certainty from their prisoners. . . . 

On Wednesday evening, October 19th, the four sur- 
viving prisoners were conveyed to the jail at Charlestown 
under an escort of marines. Brown and Stevens, badly 
wounded, were taken in a wagon ; G-reen and Coppoe, 
unhurt, walked between files of soldiers, followed by hun- 
dreds, who at first cried, " Lj^nch them !" but were very 
properly shamed into silence by Governor Wise. 

[The legal proceedings which followed, and the conviction and sen- 
tence to death of Brown and his companions, have been complained 
of as unduly hastened and unfairly conducted, yet with little warrant. 
They were what might have been expected anywhere under similar 
circumstances of excitement.] 

Brown's conduct throughout commanded the admiration 

IT.—?/ 



370 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Greeley 

of his bitterest enemies. When his papers were brought 
into court to be identified, he said, " I will identify any of 
my handwriting, and save all trouble. I am ready to face 
the music." When a defence of insanity was suggested 
rather than interposed, he repelled it with indignation. 
[When brought into court to be sentenced, he said,] '-In 
the first place, I deny everything but what I have all 
along admitted, — the design on my part to free the slaves. 
I intended certainly to have made a clear thing of that 
matter, as I did last winter when I went into Missouri 
and there took slaves without the snapping of a gun on 
either side, moved them through the country, and finally 
left them in Canada. I designed to have done the same 
thins asrain, on a larii;er scale. That was all I intended. 
I never did intend murder, or treason, or the destruction 
of property, or to excite or incite slaves to rebellion, or to 
make insurrection. . . . Now, if it is deemed necessary 
that I should forfeit ray life for the furtherance of the 
ends of justice, and mingle my blood fui'ther with the 
blood of my children, and with the blood of millions 
in this slave-country whose rights are disregarded by 
wicked, cruel, and unjust enactments, I submit : so let it 
be done." . . . 

The 2d of December was the day appointed for his exe- 
cution. Nearly three thousand militia were early on the 
ground. Fears of a forcible rescue or of a servile insur- 
rection prevented a large attendance of citizens. Cannon 
were so planted as to sweep every approach to the jail 
and to blow the j^risoner into shreds upon the first intima- 
tion of tumult. Virginia held her breath until she heard 
that the old man was dead. . . . 

He [Brown] walked out of the jail at eleven o'clock, — 
an eye-witness said, " with a radiant countenance, and the 
step of a conqueror." His face was even joyous, and it 



Greeley] THE RAID UPON HARPER'S FERRY. 371 

has been remarked that probably his was the Hghtest heart 
in Charlestovvn that day. A black woman, with a little 
child in her arras, stood by the door. He stopj)ed a moment, 
and, stooping, kissed the child affectionately. Another 
black woman, with a child, as he passed along, exclaimed, 
" God bless you, old man ! I wish I could help you ] but 
I can't." He looked at her with a tear in his eye. He 
mounted the wagon beside his jailer, Captain Avis, who 
had been one of the bravest of his captors, who had treated 
him very kindly, and to whom he was profoundly grateful. 
The wagon was instantly surrounded by six companies of 
militia. Being asked, on the way, if he felt any fear, he 
replied, " It has been a characteristic of me from infancy 
not to suffer from physical fear. I have suflFered a thou- 
sand times more from bashfulness than from fear." The 
day was clear and bright, and he remarked, as he rode, 
that the country seemed very beautiful. Arrived at the 
gallows, he said, " I see no citizens here ; where are they ?" 
" None but the troops are allowed to be present," was the 
reply. " That ought not to be," said he : " citizens should 
be allowed to be present as well as others." He bade adieu 
to some acquaintances at the foot of the gallows, and was 
first to mount the scaffold. His step was still firm, and 
his bearing calm, yet hopeful. The hour having come, he 
said to Captain Avis, •' I have no words to thank yon for 
all your kindness to me." His elbows and ankles being 
pinioned, the white cap drawn over his eyes, the hangman's 
rope adjusted around his neck, he stood waiting for death. 
"Captain Brown," said the sheriff, "you are not stand- 
ing on the drop. Will you come forward ?" " I can't see," 
was his firm answer; "you must lead me." The sheriff 
led him forward to the centre of the drop. "Shall I give 
you a handkerchief, and let you drop it as a signal?" 
" No ; I am ready at any time ; but do not keep me need- 



372 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Victor 

lessly waiting." In defiance of this reasonable request, he 
was kept standing thus several minutes, while a military 
parade and display of readiness to repel an imaginary foe 
were enacted. The time seemed an hour to the impatient 
spectators ; even the soldiers began to murmur, " Shame !" 
At last the order was given, the rope cut with a hatchet, 
and the trap fell, but so short a distance that the victim 
continued to struggle and to suifer for a considerable time. 
Being at length duly pronounced dead, he was cut down 
after thirty-eight minutes' suspension. His body was con- 
veyed to Harper's Ferry, and delivered to his widow, by 
whom it was convej'ed to her far Northern home, among 
the mountains he so loved, and where he was so beloved. 



FORT SUMTER BOMBARDED. 

ORVILLE J. VICTOR. 

[The war between tlie North and the South had its actual beginning 
in 1855, in the sanguinary struggle on the soil of Kansas between the 
settlers and the invading Missourians. The next step of violence in this 
contest was the brutal attack of Brooks on Sumner, on the floor of 
the Senate-chamber, on May 22, 1856. It was continued by the war- 
like acts of John Brown in Kansas and Missouri, and his assault upon 
Harper's Ferry. 

These direct acts of violence were accompanied by a war of words 
and threats whose significance was not then properly appreciated. The 
debates in Congress were conducted with a bitterness of recrimination 
that has never been equalled before or since, while from 1850 onward 
the threat of secession was openly made whenever any pro-slavery 
measure met with strong opposition. In the Presidential election of 
1856 the strength of the Eepublican party was shown in a vote for 
Fremont of 1,841,264 to 1,838,169 for Buchanan. Fillmore, the can- 
didate of the American party, — which deprecated any interference 



Victor] FORT SUMTER BOMBARDED. 373 

with the right of the actual settlers of a Territory to frame their Con- 
stitution and laws, — received 874,534 votes. 

On the approach of the period for the 1860 election the state of 
public feeling had grown far more violent, and the hot-headed leaders 
of Southern politics were so determined upon having all or nothing 
that they divided their party and insured their defeat, rather than 
accept the moderate views of the Northern section of the party. 
Stephen A. Douglas, the candidate of the Northern Democrats, was 
opposed by John C. Breclvcnridge as a candidate of the Southerners. 
The " Constitutional Union" (late "American") party nominated 
John Bell, of Tennessee, while the Kepublicans oifered as their can- 
didate Abraham Lincoln, of Illinois, whose record on the question at 
issue was embraced in a sentence of a recent speech : " / believe this 
government cannot permanently endure half slave and half free.' ^ The 
issue between freedom and slavery was for the first time clearh^ defined 
in a political contest. Pro-slavery and anti-slavery were pitted against 
each other in the most momentous election-contest the country had 
ever known. Lincoln might have been elected in any case. As it 
was, the division of their party by the Southerners insured his elec- 
tion, — a result, indeed, rather desired than deprecated by the South, 
to judge from the spirit of rejoicing with which the news of the 
Republican victory was received in South Carolina. 

Already in 1856 an intention not to submit to the decision of the 
people, if adverse to the views of the slave-holders, had been mani- 
fested. A secret convention of Southern governors was held at Ealeigh, 
North Carolina, in October, 1856, whose animus was afterwards indi- 
cated by Governor Wise, of Virginia, in the statement that if Fre- 
mont had been elected an army of twenty thousand men woiild have 
marched to Washington and seized the Capitol, in order forcibly to 
prevent his inauguration. In October, 1860, a meeting of prominent 
politicians was held in South Carolina, which resolved on secession in 
the event of Lincoln's election. Similar m jetings were held in several 
of the Gulf States. This was no idle threat. The most joyful enthu- 
siasm was manifested in Charleston, South Carolina, when the news 
of Lincoln's election reached the " Fire-Eaters" of that city, and they 
felt that the opportunity for what they had long desired was at hand. 
The fact that the Democrats still retained a majority in Congress was 
not enough for the ultra Southern leaders. The passions of the people 
were at fever-heat. Secession had been already determined upon. It 
could at that time be attempted with advantage, from the fact that the 
II. 32 



374 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Victor 

administration was still Democratic, and there was little fear of active 
interference with measures of disunion before March, 1861. Compro- 
mises were attempted, but no one would listen to them. Before New- 
Year's day, 1861, South Carolina had passed an ordinance of secession 
and set up as an independent power. Other States followed, — Georgia, 
Alabama, Florida, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Texas. The northern 
range of slave States as yet refused to follow this example, and did 
not do so until after war had actually broken out. 

These acts of secession were quickly followed by the seizure of the 
United States forts and arsenals in the seceding States, to which ac- 
tion the authorities at Washington manifested no opposition, and in- 
deed, as has been declared, took good care that they should be well 
supplied with munitions of war. Major Robert Anderson, in charge 
of the forts in Charleston harbor, promptly evacuated Fort Moultrie, 
as incapable of defence, and established himself in Fort Sumter with 
his small garrison of one hundred and twenty-eight men. The re- 
maining forts and the arsenal were at once seized, and volunteers 
came pouring into the city. Similar seizures were made in the other 
seceding States, and even in North Carolina, which had not seceded. 
About thirty forts, mounting over three thousand guns, and having 
cost the United States twenty million dollars, were thus forcibly 
taken possession of. A convention was held at Montgomery, Alabama, 
a Constitution adopted, and Jefferson Davis elected President, with 
Alexander H. Stephens for Vice-President, of the Confederated 
Southern States. 

On the 11th of February, 1861, Abraham Lincoln left his home 
in Springfield, Illinois, and began his journey to Washington. On 
reaching Harrisburg, indications of a purpose violently to oppose his 
progress became apparent, and his journey from this point was per- 
formed secretly. His inaugural address, delivered on the 4th of 
March, was conciliatory in tone, and the envoys from the Confederate 
government, afterwards sent to Washington, were received with a lack 
of plain-speaking that gave them hope-s of a non-interference policy. 
It was not until April that any decisive action was taken by the new 
administration. Fort Sumter, in Charleston harbor, was beleaguered 
by a Confederate force. Was it to be given up without a struggle ? 
This was just then the vital question, and the decision of the adminis- 
tration was manifested by secret but rapid preparations to relieve the 
fort. Early in April a well-appointed fleet sailed southward for this 
purpose. As soon as the fact came clearly to the knowledge of the 



Victor] FORT SUMTER BOMBARDED. 375 

leaders at Charleston, hostilities were determined upon, unless Ander- 
son would at once consent to evacuate the fort. On April 12 he 
offered to evacuate on the 15th if not by that date aided by the gov- 
ernment. In reply he was given one hour m which to decide, at the 
end of which time fire would be opened on the fort. An interesting 
description of the stirring events that succeeded we select from Victor's 
" History of the Southern Kebellion."] 

Punctually at the hour indicated — twenty minutes past 
four A.M. — the roar of a mortar from Sullivan's Island an- 
nounced the war begun. A second bomb from the same 
battery followed ; then Fort Moultrie answered with the 
thunder of a columbiad ; Curaming's Point next, and the 
Floating Battery, dropped in their resonant notes ; then 
a pause, but only for a moment. A roar of fifty guns 
burst in concert, a chorus to the solemn prelude which 
must have startled the spirits of the patriotic dead in 
their slumbers. 

Sumter lay off in the waters, the centre of that appalling 
circle of fire. The early morning shadows had lifted from 
its ramparts to discover the stars and stripes floating from 
the garrison staff; but it was as silent amid that storm as 
if no living soul panted and fretted within its walls. It 
was the silence of duty, — of men resolved on death, if 
their country called for the sacrifice. For months the 
little garrison had been pent up in the fortress, over- 
worked and underfed, but not a murmur escaped the men, 
and the hour of assault found all prepared for their leader's 
orders, — to defend the fort to the last. 

The sentinels were removed from the parapet, the pos- 
terns closed, and the order given for the men to keep close 
within the casements until the call of the drum. Break- 
fast was quietly served at six o'clock, the shot and shell 
of the enemy thundering against the walls and pouring 
within the enclosure with remarkable precision. After 



376 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Victor 

breakfast, disposition was calmly made for the day's work. 
The casements were supplied from the magazines; the 
gunSj without tangents or scales, and even destitute of 
bearing-screws, were to be ranged by the eyes and fired 
" by guess ;" the little force Avas told off in relays, com- 
posed of three reliefs, equally dividing the officers and 
men. Captain Doubleday took the first detachment, and 
fired the first gun at seven o'clock. The captain directed 
his guns at Moultrie, at the Cumming's Point iron battery, 
the floating iron-clad battery anchored off the end of Sul- 
livan's Island, and the enfilading battery on Sullivan's 
Island, — all of which were then pouring in a scathing 
storm of solid shot. To the mortar-batteries on James 
Island and Mount Pleasant, and to Fort Johnson, but Httle 
attention was paid, — only an occasional columbiad answer- 
ing their terrific messengers to prove its defiance. The 
parapet-guns were not served after a few rounds, as their 
exposed conditfon rendered it impossible to work them 
without a sacrifice of men, — a sacrifice Anderson would 
not needlessly allow. Throughout all that fearful fray 
the commander seemed never to lose sight of the men ; 
and that not a man was lost during the bombardment re- 
flects quite as much honor upon him as the defence did 
honor to his devotion to duty. 

[The eagerness of the men within the fort was so great that the re- 
liefs refused to await their turns, while a body of Irish laborers, who 
at first declined to handle the heavy guns, soon were among the 
most enthusiastic of the defenders.] 

Their devotion, indeed, became reckless. An officer 
stated that, having ordered the barbette guns to be si- 
lenced, owing to the murderous fire made upon them by 
the rifled ordnance of the enfilading battery, he was sur- 
prised to hear a report from one of the exposed forty-two- 
pounders. Proceeding to the parapet, he found a party of 



Victor] FORT SUMTER BOMBARDED. 377 

the workmen serving the gun. " I saw one of them," he 
stated, " stooping over, with his hands on his knees, con- 
vulsed with J03', while the tears rolled down his powder- 
begrimed cheeks. 'What are you doing there with that 
gun ?' I asked. ' Hit it right in the centre,' was the reply, 
the man meaning that his shot had taken effect in the 
centre of the floating battery." 

Another officer present thus recorded the nature and 
effect of that literal rain of iron which all the day long 
(Friday) poured in upon the still defiant walls : 

" Shells burst with the greatest rapidity in every portion 
of the work, hurling the loose brick and stone in all direc- 
tions, bx-eaking the windows, and setting fire to whatever 
wood-work they burst against. The solid-shot firing of the 
enemj-'s batteries, and particularly of Fort Moultrie, was 
directed at the barbette guns of Fort Sumter, disabling 
one ten-inch columbiad (they had but two), one eight-inch 
columbiad, one forty-two-pounder, and two eight-inch sea- 
coast howitzers, and also tearing a large portion of the 
parapet away. The firing from the batteries on Cum- 
ming's Point was scattered over the whole of the gorge, 
or rear, of the fort. It looked like a sieve. The explosion 
of shells, and the quantity of deadly missiles that were 
hurled in every direction and at every instant of time, 
made it almost certain death to go out of the lower tier 
of casements, and also made the working of the barbette 
or upper uncovered guns, which contained all our heaviest 
metals, and by which alone we could throw shells, quite 
impossible. During the first da}' there was hardly an in- 
stant of time that there was a cessation of the whizzing 
of balls, which were sometimes coming half a dozen at 
once. There was not a portion of the work which was 
not seen in reverse (that is, exposed by the rear) from 
mortars." . . . 

II. 32* 



378 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Victor 

At noon, Friday, the supply of cartridges in the fort 
was exhausted, when the blankets of the barracks and the 
shirts of the men were sewed into the required bags and 
served out. No instrument was in the fort for weighing 
the powder, thus forbidding all precision in the charge, 
and, as a consequence, causing much variation in planting 
the shot. When we add that the guns wanted both tan- 
gents, breech or telescopic sights, that wedges served in- 
stead of bearing-screws, we can only express astonishment 
at the accuracy attained. Not a structui-e of the enemy 
escaped the solid balls of the columbiads and paixhans. 
The village of Moultrieville — a gathering of summer- 
houses belonging to citizens of Charleston — was completeh' 
riddled. 

The fleet appeared off the harbor at noon, Friday. Sig- 
nals passed between Anderson and the vessels, but no effort 
was made to run the gauntlet. Along Morris and Sulh- 
van's Islands were anchored small batteries, commanding 
the harbor-entrance, expressly designed to prevent the 
passage of vessels over the bar and up the channel. To 
have passed these would only have brought the vessel in 
range of the irresistible guns of Cumming's Point and of 
Moultrie. No wooden frame could have withstood their 
fearful hail. The only feasible plan was, under cover of 
the night, to run in with small boats, or to force a landing 
on Morris Island and carry the batteries by assault. Either 
plan would have proven successful, if conducted with spint, 
though it would have entailed much loss of life. Why it 
was not undertaken is only explainable on the inference 
that Mr. Lincoln did not want to retain Sumter. The pos- 
session of the fort was a matter of no militar}^ importance ; 
a blockade would render all the defences of the harbor 
useless. The assault on the fort would serve to initiate 
the war for the Union, and thus instate the President's 



Victor] FORT SUMTER BOMBARDED. 379 

policy for the suppression of the rebellion. The refusal 
to withdraw the garrison from Charleston harbor unques- 
tionabh' was the subtle kej- to unlock the national sympa- 
thies and to place in Mr. Lincoln's hands the entire power 
of the loyal States. He counted well upon the madness 
of the Confederates, and simply opened the w^a}" for them 
to assail the government by assaulting its garrison. This 
was the part for Fort Sumter to play ; and, having played 
it successfully, it was not necessary to retain the position. 
The evacuation of the fortress, and the return to the North 
of its garrison, to excite public sympathy, would be worth 
more to the cause of the Union than the reinforcement 
and retention of the stronghold. 

[During Friday the officers' barracks within the fort were set on fire 
several times, but were extinguished. Guns were fired at intervals 
through the night, to prevent repairs.] 

Saturday morning, at the earliest light, the cannonading 
was resumed with redoubled fury. By eight o'clock the 
red-hot balls from the furnace in Moultrie came to prove 
that the revolutionists would use every means to dislodge 
the obstinate Anderson. Soon the barracks and quarters 
were in flames, past all control. The men were then with- 
drawn from the guns, to avert the now impending danger 
to the magazine. The powder must be emptied into the 
sea. Ninety barrels were rolled over the area exposed to 
the flames, and pitched into the water. By this time the 
heat from the burning buildings became intense, fairly 
stifling the men with its dense fumes. The doors of the 
vault were, therefoi'e, sealed, while the men crept into the 
casemates to avoid suffocation by cowering close to the 
floor, covering their faces with wet cloths. An occasional 
gun only could be fired, as a signal to the enemy and the 
fleet outside that the fort had not surrendered. The colors 



380 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Victor 

still floated from the staff. When the winds bore the smoke 
and flames aside, its folds revealed to the enemy the glori- 
ous stars and stripes, waving there amid the ruin and treble 
terror, unscathed. Its halliards had been shot away, but, 
becoming entangled, the flag was fixed. Only the destruc- 
tion of the staff could drag it down. 

This appalling conflagi'ation seemed to inflame the zeal 
of the assailants. The entire circle of attack blazoned 
with fire, and the air was cut into hissing arches of smoke 
and balls. The rebel general in command had stated that 
two houi'S, probably, would suffice to reduce the fortress, 
but twenty-eight hours had not accomplished the work ; 
and now, as the besiegers beheld another and more invin- 
cible power coming to their aid, they acknowledged the 
service rendered, by frenzied shouts and redoubled service 
at their guns. It must have been a moment to inspire the 
enthusiasm of seven thousand sons of the South, w^hen 
flames and suffocation came to assist in reducing eighty 
half-starved and exhausted men. 

About noon of Saturday the upper service magazine 
exploded, tearing away the tower and upper portions of 
the fort, and doing more havoc than a week's bombard- 
ment could have effected. One who was present wrote, 
" The crash of the beams, the roar of the flames, the rapid 
explosion of the shells, and the shower of fragments of 
the fort, with the blackness of the smoke, made the scene 
indescribably terrific and grand. This continued for sev- 
eral hours. Meanwhile, the main gates were burned down, 
the chassis of the barbette guns were burned away on 
the gorge, and the upper portions of the towers had been 
demolished by shells. 

" There was not a portion of the fort where a breath 
of air could be got for hours, except through a wet cloth. 
The fire spread to the men's quarters, on the right hand 



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Victor] FORT SUMTER BOMBARDED. 381 

and on the left, and endangered the powder which had 
been taken out of the magazines. The men went through 
the fire and covered the barrels with wet cloths, but the 
danger of the fort's blowing up became so imminent that 
they were obliged to heave the barrels out of the em- 
brasures. While the powder was being thrown overboard, 
all the guns of Moultrie, of the iron floating battery, of 
the enfilade battery, and the Dahlgren battery, worked 
with increased vigor. 

" All but four barrels were thus disposed of, and those 
remaining were wrapped in many thicknesses of wet 
woollen blankets. But three cartridges were left, and 
these were in the guns. About this time the flag-staff" of 
Fort Sumter was shot down, some fifty feet from the 
truck, this being the ninth time that it had been struck 
by a shot. The men cried out, ' The flag is down ; it has 
been shot away!' In an instant. Lieutenant Hall rushed 
forward and brought the flag away. But the halliards 
were so inextricably tangled that it could not be righted : 
it was, therefore, nailed to the staff", and planted upon the 
ramparts, while batteries in every direction were plajMng 
upon them." 

[Shortly after this incident, Louis T. Wigfall, late United States 
Senator from Texas, came out to the fort with a white flag. He an- 
nounced that he had heen sent by General Beauregard to demand on 
what terms Anderson would surrender. The latter replied that he 
would evacuate on the terms otFered in his note to Beauregard, and on 
no others. Another boat soon after appeared, with members of Beau- 
regard's stafl", and Anderson, to his mortification, was informed that 
"Wigfall had come out utterly without authority. Beauregard, how- 
ever, accepted the terms which Anderson had proposed to Wigfall, 
and the opening battle of the war ended, a contest in which not a 
man had been lost on either side. The poorly-prepared condition for 
service of Sumter's guns had saved the assailants from all peril.] 

During the bombardment a vast concourse of people 



I 



382 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Victor 

gathered in Charleston, and Uned the wharves and prome- 
nade, to witness the sublime contest. The surrounding 
country poured in its eager, excited masses to add to the 
throng. Men, women, and children stood there, hour 
after hour, with blanched faces and praying hearts; for 
few of that crowd but had some loved one in the works 
under fire. Messengers came hourly from the several 
positions, to assure the people of the safety of the men. 
The second day's conflict found the city densely filled 
with people, crowding in by railway and private convey- 
ances from the more distant counties, until Charleston 
literally swarmed with humanity, which, in dispersing, 
after the evacuation, plaj^ed the important part of agents 
to "fire the Southern heart" for the storm which their 
madness had evoked. 

The evacuation took place Sunday morning [April 14, 
1861], commencing at half-past nine. The steamer Isabel 
was detailed to receive the garrison, and to bear it to any 
point in the North which Anderson might indicate. The 
baggage was first transferred to the transport ; then the 
troops marched out, bearing their arms; while a squad, 
specially detailed, fired fifty guns as a salute to their fla.g. 
At the last discharge, a premature explosion killed one 
man, David Hough, and wounded three, — the only loss 
and injury which the men suffered in the eventful drama. 
The troops then lowered their flag and marched out with 
their colors flying, while the band played " Yankee Doodle" 
and " Hail to the Chief." From the Isabel the garrison 
was conveyed to the transport Baltic, still anchored out- 
side the bar. The Baltic sailed for New York Tuesday 
evening, April 16th. . . . Thus ended the drama of Sumter, 
— a drama which served to prelude the grander tragedy 
of the War for the Union. 



Draper] THE MONITOR AND THE MERRIMACK. 383 
THE MONITOR AND THE MERRIMACK. 

JOHN WILLIAM DEAPER. 

[The civil war in America made in military science one step of 
progress of the highest importance : it revolutionized naval combats. 
From the earliest days of naval warfiire nearly up to the year 1861 the 
wooden ship was the type of warlike vessels, oaken beams being the 
strongest bulwarks behind which fought the gallant sailors of the past. 
Somewhat previous to the outbreak of the war in America experiments 
in iron armor for ships had been made in England and France, but 
little had been done towards proving the efficacy of this expedient in 
war. The value of this method was iirst practically proved in the 
American war. The idea of coating their vessels with iron at once 
arose in the minds of the combatants, both sides simultaneously trying 
the experiment. Thus, in a crude manner at first, was brought into 
practical use that feature in naval architecture which has made such 
extraordinary progress within the succeeding twenty-fi.ve years. 

At the opening of the war the navy was very weak, and its ships 
were widely scattered, there being, indeed, but one efficient war-vessel 
on the Northern coast when the first shots were fired. The dock-yards 
were also ill provided. Buchanan's Secretary of the Navy had been 
careful to strengthen the South and weaken the North during the 
later months of his term of office. Active steps were at once taken, 
however, for the creation of a navy, and war-vessels were built with 
remarkable rapidity. In this labor the idea of building iron-clads at 
once came into prominence. In the attack on Fort Sumter the Con- 
federates had used a floating battery, composed of a raft with sloping 
bulwarks of iron. This expedient was quickly extended. The Mer- 
rimack, a large frigate which had been sunk at the abandonment of 
the Gosport navy-yard, at Norfolk, was raised with little difficulty, 
and the Confederates proceeded to cover the hull with a sloping roof 
of iron, the covering of mail extending beneath the water. 

The Federal government, in like manner, proceeded to build iron- 
clads, for both river- and ocean-service. Gunboats, to be covered 
with iron mail, for use on the Western rivers, were contracted for, and 
built with such rapidity by Mr. Eads, of St. Louis, that in less than a 
hundred days after their commencement a fleet of eight heavily-armored 



384 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Draper 

steamboats were fully ready for service. Several other vessels, more 
thinly coated, but musket-proof, were built. These gained the title 
of "tin-clads." Mortar-boats were constructed, similarly protected. 

For ocean-service, in addition to the numerous fleet of wooden ves- 
sels intended for use in the blockade of the Southern ports, some of 
them very large and powerful, an efEcient fleet of iron-clads was pre- 
pared. Originally contracts were entered into for- three such vessels, 
of diflrering character. One was a small corvette, the Galena, covered 
with iron three inches thick. This experiment proved a failure, as 
solid shot easily penetrated that thickness of mail. A second, the 
New Ironsides, was a heavily-coated frigate, which did good service. 
The third brought into play a new idea in naval architecture, the 
invention of John Ericsson, a Swedish engineer. It consisted of a 
nearly-submerged, flat-surfaced hull, surmounted by a revolving tur- 
ret strongly plated and containing a few powerful guns. This vessel, 
the Monitor, was to be built in one hundred days, and fortunately the 
contract was executed within the prescribed time. The great success 
of her first engagement encouraged the government to build several 
other vessels of the same type, some of them being very large and 
powerful. Several of these vessels were provided with rams, of solid 
wood and iron, calculated to pierce any vessel whose sides they might 
have an opportunity to strike. The Merrimack was also furnished 
with a ram, and the Confederates afterwards prepared several strong 
vessels of this sort, all of which, however, met with serious disasters. 
It may be said here that the use of the Monitor idea in warfare prac- 
tically ended with our civil war. The development of the iron-clad 
has proceeded in a diflPerent direction. 

Another idea was adopted which also has had a revolutionizing 
effect on naval warfare, that of the employment of very heavy guns. 
Up to 1860 the English navy used no guns of larger calibre than eight 
inches. America had long given her ships a more powerful armament 
than those of England. In 1856 American frigates were afloat armed 
with guns of nine-, ten-, and eleven-inch calibre. With the outbreak 
of the war much heavier guns were made, the twenty-inch Kodman 
throwing a ball of eleven hundred pounds' weight, with a range of four 
and a half miles. The progress of iron-clad naval architecture has since 
rendered the use of very heavy guns an absolute necessity, and experi- 
ments in this direction have kept pace with those in thickening the 
steel coating of ships, until both seem to have nearly reached their 
limit of possible utility. 



Draper] THE MONITOR AND THE MERRIMACK. 385 

The remarks here made seem necessary as preliminary to the de- 
scription of perhaps the most remarkable event in naval wai-fare which 
exists in the annals of history, the encounter of the first two iron-clad 
ships, with the sudden and radical revision of previously-existing ideas 
to which it gave rise. A description of this highly interesting event 
we select from Draper's " Civil War in America."] 

When the navy-yard at Norfolk was seized b}^ Virginia, 
among tlie ships partly destroyed was the steam-frigate 
Merrimack, of forty guns. She was one of the finest ves- 
sels in the navy, and was worth, when equipped, nearly a 
million and a quarter of dollars. 

She had been set on fire, and also scuttled, by the ofiicers 
who had charge of the yard. Her upper work alone, there- 
fore, had suffered. Her hull and machinery were compara- 
tively uninjured. 

The Confederate government caused her to be raised and 
turned into an extemporaneous iron-clad. Her hull was 
cut down, and a stout timber roof built upon it. This was 
then strongly plated with three laj'ers of iron, each one 
inch and a quarter thick, the first layer being placed hori- 
zontally, the second obliquely, the third perpendicularly. 
The armature reached two feet below the water-line, and 
rose ten feet above. The ends were constructed in the 
same manner. A false bow was added for the purpose 
of dividing the water, and bej'ond it projected an iron 
beak. Outwardly she presented the appearance of an iron 
roof or ark. It was expected that, from her sloping arma- 
ture, shots striking would glance away. Her armament 
consisted of eight eleven-inch guns, four on each side, 
and a one-hundred-pound rifled Armstrong gun at each 
end. 

As the fact of her construction could not be concealed, 
the Confederate authorities purposely circulated rumors 
to her disadvantage. It was said that her iron was so 
II.— R z 33 



386 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Draper 

heavy that she could hardly float; that her hull had been 
seriously injured, and that she could not be steered. Of 
course they could have no certain knowledge of her capa- 
bilities as a weapon of war, and, as was the case with 
many officers of the national navy, perhaps they held her 
in light esteem. 

About mid-day on Saturday, Mai'ch 8th [1862]. she came 
down the Elizabeth Eiver, under the command of Frank- 
lin Buchanan, an officer who had abandoned the national 
navy. She was attended by two armed steamboats, and 
was afterward joined by two others. Passing the sailing- 
frigate Congress, and receiving from her her fire, she made 
her way to the sloop-of-war Cumberland, of twenty-four 
guns and three hundred and seventy-six men. This ship 
had been placed across the channel to bring her bi'oadside 
to bear, and, as the Merrimack approached, she received 
her with a rapid fire. At once one of the problems pre- 
sented by the Merrimack's construction was solved : the 
shot of the Cumberland, from thirteen nine- and ten-inch 
guns, glanced from her armature " like so many peas." 
Advancing with all the speed she had, and receiving six 
or eight broadsides while so doing, she struck her antago- 
nist with her iron beak just forward of the main chains, 
and instantly opened her fire of shells from every gun she 
could bring to bear. The battle was alread}' decided. 
Through the hole she had made, large enough for a man 
to enter, the water poured in. In vain Lieutenant Morris, 
who commanded the Cumberland, worked the pumps to 
keep her afloat a few moments moi'e, hoping that a lucky 
shot might find some weaker place. He only abandoned 
his guns as one after another the settling of the sinking 
ship swamped them in the water. The last shot was fired 
by Matthew Tenney, from a gun on a level with the water. 
That brave man then attempted to escape through the 



Draper] THE MONITOR AND THE MERRIMACK. 387 

port-hole, but was borne back by the incoming rush, and 
went down with the ship. With him went down nearly 
one hundred dead, sick, wounded, and those who, like him, 
could not extricate themselves. The Cumberland sank in 
fifty-four feet of water. The commander of her assailant 
saw the flag of the unconquered but sunken ship still fly- 
ing above the surface. He was not a Virginian, but a 
Marylander by birth, and had served under that flag for 
thirty-five years. 

The sailing-fi-igate Congress, which had fired at the 
Merrimack as she passed, and exchanged shots with the 
ai-med steamboats, had been run aground by her com- 
mander with the assistance of a tug. The Merrimack 
now came up, and, taking a position about one hundred 
and fifty yards from her stern, fired shell into her. One 
shell killed seventeen men at one of the guns. Of the 
only two guns with which she could replj', one was quickly 
dismounted, and the muzzle of the other knocked ofi^. The 
Merrimack ranged slowly backward and forward at less 
than one hundred yards. In her helpless condition, the 
Congress took fire in several places, and nearly half her 
crew were killed or wounded. Among the former was her 
commander. The flag was therefore hauled down, and a 
tug came alongside to take possession of her. But, fire 
being opened on the tug by some soldiers on shore, the 
Merrimack recommenced shelling, doing the same again 
later in the day, after the crew of the Congress had aban- 
doned her. The Congress was set thoroughly on fire. 
About midnight she blew up. Out of her crew of four 
hundred and thirty-four men, only two hundred and eigh- 
teen survived. In little more than two hours Buchanan 
had killed or drowned more than three hundred of his old 
comrades. 

When the Merrimack first came out, the commander of 



388 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Draper 

the steam-frigate Minnesota got his ship under way. in- 
tending to butt the iron-clad and run her down. As he 
passed Sewall's Point, he received the fire of a rifle battery 
there, and had his mainmast injured. It was ebb tide ; the 
Minnesota drew twenty-three feet water; at one part of 
the channel the depth was less, but, as the bottom was 
soft, it was hoped that the ship could be forced over. She, 
however, took the ground, and, in spite of every exertion, 
became immovable. The Merrimack, having destroyed 
the Cumberland and Congress, now came down upon the 
Minnesota. Her draft, however, prevented her coming 
nearer to her intended victim than a mile, and the fire on 
both sides was comparatively inefi^ective. But the armed 
steamboats ventured nearer, and, with their rifled guns, 
killed and woimded several men on boai'd the Minnesota. 
On her part, she sent a shot through the boiler of one of 
them. Night was coming on ; the Merrimack did not ven- 
ture to lie out in the Eoads: so, expecting another easy 
victory in the morning, she retired at seven p.m., with her 
consorts, behind Sewall's Point. 

The Minnesota still lay fast on the mud-bank. The re- 
coil of her own firing had forced her harder on. Attempts 
were made at high tide, and, indeed, all through the night, 
to get her off, but in vain. The steam-frigate Roanoke, 
disabled some months previously by the breaking of her 
shaft, and the sailing-frigate St. Lawrence, had both like- 
wise been aground, but had now gone down the Eoads. 

At nine o'clock that night Ericsson's new iron-clad tur- 
ret-ship, the Monitor, reached Fortress Monroe from New 
York. Every exertion had been made by her inventor to 
get her out in time to meet the Merrimack ; and the Con- 
federates, finding from their spies in New York that she 
would probably be ready, put a double force on their 
frigate, and worked night and day. It is said that this 



Draper] THE MONITOR AND THE MERRIMACK. 389 

extra labor gained that one day in which the Meri'imack 
destroyed the Cumberland and the Congress. 

The Monitor was commanded by Lieutenant John L. 
Worden. A dreadful passage of thi-ee days had almost 
worn out her crew. The sea had swept over her decks; 
the turret was often the only part above water. The 
tiller-rope was at one time thrown off the wheel. The 
draft-pipe had been choked by the pouring down of the 
waves. The men were half suffocated. The fires had 
been repeatedly extinguished. Ventilation had, however, 
been obtained through the turret. Throughout the pre- 
vious afternoon Worden had heard the sound of the can- 
nonading. He delayed but a few minutes at the Fortress, 
and soon after midnight had anchored the Monitor along- 
side the Minnesota (March 9). 

Day broke, — a clear and beautiful Sunday. The flag 
of the Cumberland was still flying; the corpses of her de- 
fenders were floating about on the watei". The Merrimack 
approached to renew her attack. She ran down toward 
the Fortress, and then came vip the channel through which 
the Minnesota had passed. AVorden at once took his sta- 
tion at the peep-hole of his pilot-house, laid the Monitor 
before her enemj'", and gave the fire of his two eleven-inch 
guns. The shot of each was one hundred and sixty-eight 
pounds' weight. Catesby Jones, who had taken command 
of the Merrimack, Buchanan having been wounded the 
previous day, saw at once that he had on his hands a very 
different antagonist from those of yesterday. The turret 
was but a very small mark to fii-e at, nine feet by twenty' ; 
the shot that struck it glanced off. One bolt only from a 
rifle-gun struck squarely, penetrating into the iron ; " it 
then broke short off, and left its head sticking in." For 
the most part, the shot flew over the low deck, missing 
their aim. 

II. 33* 



I 



390 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Draper 

Five times the Merrimack tried to run the Monitor 
down, and at each time received, at a few feet distance, 
the fire of the eleven-inch guns. In her movements at 
one moment she got aground, and the light-drawing Moni- 
tor, steaming round her, tried at every promising point to 
get a shot into her. Her armor at last began to start and 
bend. 

Unable to shake oif the Monitor or to do her any injury, 
the Merrimack now renewed her attempt on the frigate 
Minnesota, receiving from her a whole broadside which 
struck squarely. " It was enough," said Captain Yan 
Brunt, who commanded the frigate, "to have blown out 
of the water any wooden ship in the world." In her 
turn, she sent from her rifled bow-gun a shell through the 
Minnesota's side; it exploded within her, tearing four of 
her rooms into one, and setting her on fire. Another shell 
burst the boiler of the tug-boat Dragon, which lay along- 
side the Minnesota. The frigate w^as firing on the iron- 
clad solid shot as fast as she could. 

Once more the Monitor intervened between them, com- 
pelling her antagonist to change position, in doing which 
the Merrimack again grounded, and again received a 
whole broadside from the Minnesota. The blows she was 
receiving were beginning to tell upon her. As soon as 
she could get clear, she ran down the bay, followed by the 
Monitor. Suddenly she turned round, and attempted to 
run her tormentor down. Her beak grated on the Moni- 
tor's deck, and was wrenched. The turret-ship stood un- 
harmed a blow like that which had sent the Cumberland 
to the bottom ; she merely glided out from under her 
antagonist, and in the act of so doing gave her a shot 
while almost in contact. It seemed to crush in her armor. 

The Monitor now hauled off, for the purpose of hoisting 
more shot into her turret. Catesby Jones thought he had 



Draper] THE MONITOR AND THE MERRIMACK. 391 

silenced her, and that he might make another attempt oa 
the Minnesota. He, however, changed his course as the 
Monitor steamed up, and it was seen that the Merrimack 
was sagging down at her stern. She made the best of 
her way to Craney Island. The battle was over; the 
turreted Monitor had driven her from the field and won 
the victory. 

The Minnesota had fired two hundred and forty-seven 
solid shot, two hundred and eighty-two shells, and more 
than ten tons of powder. The Monitor fired forty-one 
shot, and was struck twenty-two times. The last shell 
fired by the Merrimack at her struck her pilot-house 
oiDposite the peep-hole, through which Worden at that 
moment was looking. He was knocked down senseless 
and blinded by the explosion. When consciousness re- 
turned, the first question this brave officer asked was, 
" Did we save the Minnesota ?" 

The shattering of the pilot-house was the greatest in- 
jury that the Monitor received. One of the iron logs, 
nine inches by twelve inches thick, was broken in two. 

On board the Merrimack two were killed and nineteen 
wounded. She had lost her iron prow, her starboard an- 
chor, and all her boats ; her armor was dislocated and 
damaged ; she leaked considerably ; her steam-pipe and 
smoke-stack were riddled ; the muzzles of two of her 
guns wei-e shot away; the wood-work round one of the 
ports was set on fire at ever}" discharge. 

In his report on the battle, Buchanan states that in 
fifteen minutes after the action began he had run the 
Cumberland down; that he distinctly heard the crash 
when she was struck, and that the fire his ship received 
did her some injury; that there was great difficulty in 
managing the Merrimack when she was near the mud, 
and that this was particularly the case in getting into 



392 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossinq 

position to attack the Congress. It was while firing the 
red-hot shot and incendiary shell by which that ship was 
burnt that he was himself wounded. 

This engagement excited the most profound interest 
throughout the civilized world. It seemed as if the day 
of wooden navies was over. Nor was it alone the supe- 
riority of iron as against wood that was settled by this 
combat : it showed that a monitor was a better construc- 
tion than a mailed broadside ship, and that inclined armor 
was inferior to a turret. 

[This opinion does not take into account the defects of the monitors 
as sea-going vessels, which have prevented their coming into extended 
use. The original Monitor foundered in a storm off Cape Hatteras 
during the same year. The Merrimack was blown up on the abandon- 
ment of Norfolk, on May 11, 1862.] 



THE CONFLICT AT ANTIETAM. 

BENSON J. LOSSING. 

[The war which immediately followed the asi^ault on Fort Sumter 
was so crowded with events of striking importance and interest that 
we shall be obliged to pass in rapid review over certain engagements 
of vital consequence, and dwell only upon the special turning-points 
of the war. The conflict in Virginia was in particular crowded with 
sanguinary engagements, constituting a drama of imposing interest, 
whose first act may be considered to end with the battle of Antietam, 
in September, 1862. The varied scenes preceding the denouement of 
this act can be given but in rapid outline. The reduction of Fort 
Svimter was immediately followed by a call from President Lincoln 
for seventy-five thousand volunteers, who were quickly furnished by 
the aroused and indignant people of the North. Yet a lack of bold- 
ness and decision on the part of the authorities permitted the valuable 
navy-yard at Norfolk to fall into the hands of the Confederates, 



LossiNG] THE CONFLICT AT ANTIETAM. 393 

caused the destruction of the costlj^ arms-making machinery at Har- 
per's Ferry, and left Washington City in no little danger of capture. 
The latter peril was averted by the hasty southward movement of 
troops, hut highly valuable material of Avar fell into the hands of the 
secessionists, through the seizure of Southern forts and arsenals, some 
of which had been specially supplied for this purpose by the secession 
element of the Buchanan cabinet. 

The military situation, and the character of the war that followed, 
were in some respects peculiar. There was actually a double war, — 
one confined to the State of Virginia and the country immediately 
north of it, the other waged for the possession of the Mississippi and 
the range of States bordering it on the east. Besides these two great 
fields of campaigning, were the operations Avest of the Mississippi, of 
minor importance, and the blockade of the coast, which proved highly 
useful in isolating the South from foreign countries. 

The two capital cities, Washington and Richmond, were the points 
between which, for four years, raged the war in Virginia, these cities 
being assailed and defended with a vigor and fury that went far to 
exhaust the resources of the warring sections of the country. In the 
West the line of battle was gradually pushed southward from the Ohio, 
through the States of Kentucky and Tennessee, till the Gulf States 
were finally reached. On the Mississippi it went southward more 
rapidly, while a like movement was pushed northAvard along that 
river, until the two invading armies met, and the great artery of the 
W^est became again a river of the United States. Only after this 
achievement did the two fields of war begin to combine into one, the 
Western army marching into the Atlantic States and pushing north to 
the aid of Grant in that final struggle which was draining the last life- 
drops of vitality from the veins of the exhausted Confederacy. 

The operations of the armies must therefore be considered separately. 
In the East hostilities first broke out definitely in West Virginia. 
This new State, which had clung to the Union, became the seat of a 
struggle in which McClellan and Eosecrans gained an early triumph. 
At the battle of Kich Mountain (July 11, 1861), Garnett, the Con- 
federate general, was killed, and his troops routed. General Patterson 
had meanwhile taken possession of Harper's Ferry, which was evacu- 
ated by General Johnston, and General Butler, stationed at Fortress 
Monroe, had skirmished with the enemy at Big Bethel. 

The war fairly began in later July, when General McDowell, with 
twenty-eight thousand men, advanced against General Beauregard, 



394 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossixa 

who was strongly posted behind the small stream of Bull Eun, south 
of "Washington. In the severe battle that ensued both armies were 
under the disadvantage of being composed of untried and undisciplined 
men. Victory at first inclined strongly towards McDowell, but Beau- 
regard, with great skill, maintained his position until joined by John- 
ston's army from the Shenandoah Valley. Patterson, who was expected 
from the same quarter, failed to appear, and the Federal army, over- 
whelmed by these fresh troops, was forced to retreat with a haste that 
soon became precipitate. They were not pursued, however. 

McClellan was now recalled from West Virginia, and placed in com- 
mand of the Army of the Potomac, while Eosecrans was left to con- 
front General Lee, who had been placed in command of the West 
Virginia Confederate forces. No further events of particular impor- 
tance occurred in that quarter, while in Eastern Virginia comparative 
quiet reigned during the remainder of 1861, McClellan being busily 
engaged in drilling and disciplining his army. In March, 1862, he 
moved his whole force to the peninsula between the York and James 
Rivers, and began an advance upon Eichmond, pursuing General 
Johnston, who had hastily evacuated Yorktown and retreated, his 
rear being struck and defeated at Williamsburg. The first battle of 
importance took place on May 31, on which day Johnston suddenl}' 
assailed a portion of the Union army that had crossed the Chicka- 
hominy. Nothing but the hasty pushing forward of reinforcements 
prevented a serious disaster. Johnston was wounded in this engage- 
ment, and was succeeded by Eobert E. Lee, who on the 1st of June 
was made commander-in-chief of the Confederate army of Northern 
Virginia. 

Meanwhile, events of importance were occurring in the Shenandoah 
Valley, where Stonewall Jackson made that memorable march which 
gave him so sudden and brilliant a reputation. Striking rapidly 
north, he defeated Banks, and drove him, with severe loss, beyond the 
Potomac, and then drew back so rapidly as to slip unharmed between 
the columns of McDowell and Fremont, who were advancing across 
the mountains from the east and the west, hoping to catch their alert 
antagonist in a trap. 

The removal of McDowell to the Valley gave General Lee an op- 
portunity of which he took instant advantage. McClellan 's line of 
communication with York Eiver had been left exposed, and the new 
Confederate commander, calling Jackson to his aid from the Valley, 
fell upon the Union armj' with an impetuosity which it proved unahl« 



LossiNQ] THE CONFLICT AT ANTIETAM. 395 

to withstand. Thus began that remarkable series of battles which for 
seven days kept the cannon of the contending armies in unceasing 
roar. 

An assault was made on Fitz-John Porter's post at Mechanicsville 
on June 26. He retired to his works on Beaver Dam Creek, where he 
was assailed on the 27th. Finding his lines flanked by Jackson's 
corps, he withdrew to a strong line of intrenchments at Gaines's Mills. 
Here he was exposed to a series of impetuous charges, in which the 
Confederates, after being several times repulsed, succeeded in gaining 
the crest of the ridge and breaking the Union lines. A retreat fol- 
lowed that was almost a panic, and only the approach of night put a 
stop to the slaughter which had decimated Porter's bi'oken ranks. 

During the next day a general retreat of the Union columns began, 
McClellan cutting loose from his base on the York, and moving 
back towards the James River. The victorious Confederates followed, 
and several severe battles occurred during the following days. The 
Union rear-guard, with great courage, checked the pursuit at succes- 
sive points, and on the 1st of Julj'' a pitched battle took place at Mal- 
vern Hill, in which the whole forces of both armies were engaged, 
and in which the assault of the Confederates on the Union intrench- 
ments was repulsed with great loss. It is asserted by many historians 
that Lee's army was almost in a panic, and that a Union advance in 
force at that moment must have routed them, and probably have 
placed Eichmond in the hands of the Union army. Be that as it may, 
McClellan persisted in his plan of retreat. During the night Malvern 
Hill was deserted, and by nightfall of the next day the Union army 
was safely gathered at Harrison's Landing, under the protection of 
the gunboats on the James Eiver. This position was immediately 
fortified, and Lee made no effort to assail it. The loss on both sides 
had been enormous, though that of the Unionists had been considera- 
bly the greater, while the main object of their campaign, the cap- 
ture of Richmond, was completely frustrated. 

Meanwhile, the three armies of Fremont, Banks, and McDowell 
had been massed into one, and placed under the command of General 
Pope, who had gained prominence by successes in the West. The 
design was to aid McClellan, but Lee's success rendered new plans 
necessary, and Pope's army was held between Richmond and Wash- 
ington, as a cover to the latter city. 

A covering force had become essential, for Lee soon began a series 
of bold movements which placed the seat of government in great 



396 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossino 

jeopardy. In August lie advanced towards the Eapidan, a menace 
which so disconcerted the Federal authorities that McClellan was 
hastily recalled from the James, and ordered to transport his army 
with all haste to Washington. The Confederate force under Jack- 
son was now sent on a rapid flanking march through Thoroughfare 
Gap in the Bull Kun Mountains. Jackson reached the rear of Pope's 
army at Manassas Junction, at which point an immense quantity 
of army stores was captured, such as could not be carried off being 
destroA'ed. 

Pope, finding that Jaclcson was in his rear, and separated from the 
remainder of Lee's army, marched rapidly upon him, hoping to de- 
stroy him before he could effect a junction with Longstreet. But this 
movement seems to have been ill managed. Thoroughfare Gap, 
through which alone Longstreet could come to Jackson's aid, was 
weakly held, and a junction between the two divisions of Lee's army 
was suffered to be made almost without opposition. The failure to 
overwhelm Jackson was ascribed by Pope to disobedience of orders on 
the part of Fitz-John Porter, and this general was subsequently court- 
martialled and dismissed the service, his explanation of the circum- 
stances not being accepted as satisfactory. 

The engagement with Jackson occurred on August 29. On the 
succeeding day the battle was renewed. Pope being now confronted by 
the whole of Lee's army. The conflict ended in a disastrous repulse 
of the Union army, it being driven beyond Bull Kun, with serious 
loss. On the 31st, Pope fell back to Centreville, a point more im- 
mediately covering Washington. A minor conflict took place on the 
evening of that day, near Chantilly, in which Generals Kearney and 
Stevens were killed. Pope now resigned his command, having lost 
during the campaign about thirty thousand men, thirty guns, twenty 
thousand small-arms, and vast quantities of supplies and munitions. 
Lee's loss numbered about fifteen thousand men. 

Up to this point Lee had been remarkably successful. He now en- 
tered upon a series of movements which ended in failure. Recognizing 
the fact that Washington was too strongly defended to be taken by an 
attack in front, he decided upon an invasion of Maryland, in the hope 
of bringing that State over to the support of the Confederacy and of 
obtaining large accessions to his ranks. Suddenly breaking camp, he 
made a hasty march to the Potomac, which he crossed on September 
5 at Point of Eocks. Marching quickly to Frederick, he issued from 
that city an appeal to Maryland, calling upon it to throw off the 



LossiNG] THE CONFLICT AT ANTIETAM. 397 

Northern yoke and join its sisters of the South. The appeal fell flat, 
and the volunteers he had hoped for failed to make their appearance 
in his ranks. His accessions did not equal the desertions from his 
army. So far, the enterprise was evidently a failure. It remained to 
obtain from it whatever advantage might be gained. 

The gaps of South Mountain were occupied, and Jackson was sent 
to assail Harper's Ferry, whose garrison, through an error of judgment, 
had not been withdrawn. Taking possession of the heights which 
surrounded the town, a bombardment was commenced which forced 
an almost immediate surrender, the place being indefensible. On the 
morning of the 15th there were surrendered eleven thousand five hun- 
dred and eighty-three men, seventy-three guns, thirteen thousand small- 
arms, two hundred wagons, and a large store of supplies. 

Meanwhile, the Union army under McClellan was hurrying after 
the invading force. Franklin was sent to the relief of Harper's Ferry, 
and succeeded in forcing Crampton's Gap, near that place. But he 
was too late. The surrender had taken place, and the Confederates 
were withdrawn. In this enterprise Lee had achieved an important 
and valuable success. In the succeeding events he was destined to 
receive the first check to his remarkably victorious career. 

Boonsborough Gap, north of Crampton's, was strongly held by the 
Confederates, and was assaulted by the army under McClellan on Sep- 
tember 14, Longstreet, who had advanced to Hagerstown, probably 
with the intention of invading Pennsylvania, was hastilj^ recalled, and 
sent to reinforce Hill, who was being severely pushed at the Gap. After 
a desperately-contested conflict, the Union army succeeded in forcing 
its way through the mountains and reaching the opposite slope. 

The defence of this pass had been necessary to Lee. His army was 
widely scattered, and the approach of McClellan rendered concentra- 
tion indispensable. Jackson was marching in all haste from Harper's 
Ferry to Sharpsburg, having left A. P. Hill to receive the surrender 
of the garrison. The trains from Hagerstown were hurrying towards 
the same point. After their repulse at Boonsborough, Longstreet and 
D. H. Hill fell back, so that by the morning of the 16th the whole 
army, with the exception of the force left at Harper's Ferry, was con- 
centrated at Sharpsburg, behind Antietam Creek, a stream which there 
flows into the Potomac. McClellan's army reached the opposite side 
of the stream on the same day. Of the events which followed we give 
an account in the words of Benson J. Lossing, from his " Civil "War 
in America."] 

II. 34 



398 AMERICAN HISTORY. [LossiNO 

On the morning of the 16th both armies Avere actively 
preparing for battle. The bulk of the Confederate forces, 
under Longstreet and D. H. Hill, stood along the range 
of heights between Sharpsburg and the Antietam, which 
flowed between the belligerents. Longstreet was on the 
right of the road between Sharpsburg and Boonsborough, 
and Hill on the left. Hood's division was posted between 
Hill and the Hagerstown road, north of Miller's fai'm, so 
as to oppose an expected flank movement in that direc- 
tion ; and near that point, in the rear, Jackson's exhausted 
troops were posted in reserve, his line stretching from the 
Hagerstown road toward the Potomac, and protected by 
Stuart with cavalry and artillery. Walker was posted on 
Longstreet's right with two brigades a little south of 
Sharpsburg, near Shaveley's farm. General Lee had his 
quarters in a tent, as usual, on the hill close by Sharps- 
burg, where the National Cemetery now is, and from that 
point he overlooked much of the country that was made 
a battle-field the next da}-. 

Along the line of the Confederate army, the Antietam 
(a sluggish stream with few fords) was spanned by four 
stone bridges of like architecture, three of which were 
strongly guarded. McClellan made his head-quarters at 
the fine brick mansion of Philip Pr}^, about two miles 
northeast of Sharpsburg, east of the Antietam, and on 
each side of him in front his army was posted. On the 
right, near Keedysville, and on both sides of the Sharps- 
burg pike, stood the corps of Sumner and Hooker. In 
advance, on the right of the turnpike and near the Antie- 
tam, General Eichardson's division of Sumner's corps was 
posted. In line with this, on the left of that road, was 
Sykes's regular division of Porter's corps, protecting bridge 
No. 2. Farther down the stream, on the left, and not far 
from No. 3, Burnside's corps was posted. Upon a ridge 




ANTIETAM CREEK. 






Lossing] the conflict AT ANTIETAM. 399 

of the first line of hills east of Antietam, between the 
turnpike and Pry's house, and in front of Sumner and 
Hooker, batteries of twenty-four-pounder Pai-rott guns, 
commanded by Captains Taft, Langner, and Von Kleizer, 
and Lieutenant "Weaver, were planted. On the crest of 
the hill, above bridge No. 3, were batteries under Captain 
Weed and Lieutenant Benjamin. Fi'anklin's corps and 
Couch's division were farther down in Pleasant Valley, 
near Brownsville, and Morrell's division of Porter's corps 
was approaching from Boonsborough, and Humphreys's 
from Frederick. A detachment of the Signal Corps, under 
Major Myer, had a station on Eed Eidge, a spur of South 
Mountain, which overlooked the entire field of operations, 
and from that point it performed ver}^ important service. 
Such was the general position of the contending armies 
on the 16th of September. 

The Confederates opened an artillery fire on the Na- 
tionals at dawn, but it was afternoon before McClellan 
was ready to put his troops in position for attack, the 
morning having been spent in reconnoitring, finding fords, 
and other preparations required by prudence. There was 
found to be a lack of ammunition and rations, and these 
had to be supplied from tardily-approaching supply-trains. 
Finally he was in readiness, and at two o'clock in the after- 
noon Hooker was ordered to cross the Antietam at and 
near bridge No. 1, with the divisions of Ricketts, Meade, 
and Doubleday, and attack and turn the Confederate left. 
Sumner was directed to throw over the stream during the 
night General Mansfield's corps (Twelfth), and to hold his 
own (Second) ready to cross early the next morning. 
Hooker's movement was successful. Advancing through 
the woods, he struck Hood, and, after a sharj^ contest, 
commenced with Meade's Pennsylvania Eeserves, near the 
house of I). Miller, and which lasted until dark, the Con- 



400 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossinq 

federates were driven back. Hooker's men rested that 
night on their arms upon the ground they had won from 
their foe. Mansfield's corps (divisions of Williams and 
Greene) crossed the Antietam during the evening in 
Hooker's track, and bivouacked on Poffenberger's farm 
a mile in his rear. 

The night of the 16th was passed b}^ both armies with 
the , expectation of a heavy battle in the morning. Few 
officers found relief from anxiety, for it was believed by 
many that it might be a turning-point in the war. Only 
the commander-in-chief of the national army seems to 
have had a lofty faith that all would be well. He retired 
to his room at a little past ten o'clock, and did not leave it 
until eight o'clock the next morning, when the surrounding 
hills had been echoing the sounds of battle which had 
been raging within a mile of head-quarters for three hours. 
Then, with some of his aides, he walked to a beautiful 
grove on the brow of a declivity near Pry's, overlooking 
the Antietam, and watched the battle on the right for 
about two hours, when he mounted his horse and rode 
away to Porter's position, on the right, where he was 
greeted, as usual, by the hearty cheers of his admiring 
soldiers. 

The contest was opened at dawn by Hooker, with about 
eighteen thousand men. He made a vigorous attack on 
the Confederate left, commanded by Jackson. Doubleday 
was on his right, Meade on his left, and Eicketts in the 
centre. His first object was to push the Confederates 
back through a line of woods, and seize the Hagerstown 
road and the woods beyond it in the vicinity of the Dunker 
church, where Jackson's line lay. The contest was ob- 
stinate and severe. The national batteries on the east 
side of the Antietam poured an enfilading fire on Jackson 
that galled him very much, and it was not long before the 



LossiNG] THE CONFLICT AT ANTIETAM. 401 

Confederates were driven with heavy loss beyond the first 
line of woods, and across an open field, which was covered 
thickly in the morning with standing corn. 

Hooker now advanced his centre under Meade to seize 
the Hagerstown road and the woods beyond. They were 
met by a murderous fire from Jackson, who had just been 
reinforced by Hood's refreshed troops and had brought up 
his reserves. These issued in great numbers from the 
woods, and fell heavily upon Meade in the cornfield. 
Hooker called upon Doubleday for aid, and a brigade 
under the gallant General Hartsuif was instantly for- 
warded at the double-quick, and passed across the corn- 
field in the face of a terrible storm of shot and shell. It 
fought desperately for half an hour unsupported, when its 
leader fell severely Avounded. 

In the mean time Mansfield's corps had been ordered up 
to the support of Hooker, and while the divisions of Wil- 
liams and Greene, of that corps, were deploying, the vet- 
eran commander was mortally wounded. The charge of 
his corps then devolved on General Williams, who left 
his division to the care of General Crawford. The latter, 
with his own and Gordon's brigade, pushed across the 
open field and seized a part of the woods on the Hagers- 
town road. At the same time Greene's division took 
position to the left of the Dunker church. 

Hooker had lost heavily by battle and straggling, yet 
he was contending manfully for victory. Doubleday's 
guns had silenced a Confederate battery on the extreme 
right, and Eicketts was struggling against a foe constantly 
increasing, but was bravely holding his gi^ound without 
power to advance. The fight was very severe, and at 
length the national line began to waver and give way. 
Hooker, while in the van, was so severely wounded in the 
foot that he was taken from the field at nine o'clock an-i 

IT.— aa 34* 



402 AMERICAN HISTORY. [i^ossiNG 

to McClellan's head-quarters at Pry's, leaving his command 
to Sumner, who had just arrived on the field with his 
own corps. Up to this time the battle had been fought 
much in detail, both lines advancing and falling back as 
each received reinforcements. 

Sumner at once sent General Sedgwick to the support 
of Crawford and Gordon, and Eichai-dson and French bore 
down upon the foe more to the left, when the cornfield, 
already" won and lost by both parties, was regained by the 
Nationals, who held the ground around theDunker church. 
Yictory seemed certain for the latter, for Jackson and 
Hood had commenced retiring, when fresh troops under 
McLaws and Walker came to Jackson's support, seconded 
by Early on their left. These pressed desperately for- 
ward, penetrated the national line at a gap between Sum- 
ner's right and centre, and the Unionists were driven 
back to the first line of woods east of the Hagerstown 
road, when the victors, heavily smitten by the national 
artillery, and menaced by unflinching Doubleday, with- 
drew to their original position near the church. Sedgwick, 
twice wounded, was carried from the field, when the com- 
mand of his division devolved on General O. O. Howard. 
Generals Crawford and Dana were also wounded. 

It was now about noon, and fighting had been going on 
since dawn. The wearied right needed immediate support. 
It came at a timely moment. Franklin had come up from 
below, and McClellan, who remained on the east side of 
the Antietam, sent him over to assist the hard-pressed 
right. He formed on Howard's left, and at once sent 
Slocum with his division toward the centre. At the same 
time General Smith was ordered to retake the ground over 
which there had been so much contention and bloodshed. 
"Within fifteen minutes after the order was given it was 
executed. The Confederates were driven from the open 



Lossing] the conflict AT AATJETAM. 403 

field and beyond the Hagerstown road by gallant charges, 
accompanied by loud cheers, first by Franklin's Third 
Brigade, under Colonel Irwin, and then by the Seventh 
Maine. Inspired by this success, Franklin desired to push 
forward and seize a rough wooded position of importance ; 
but Sumner thought the movement would be too hazard- 
ous, and he was restrained. 

Meanwhile, the divisions of French and Eichardson had 
been busy. The former, with the brigades of Weber, 
Kimball, and Morris (the latter raw troops), pushed on 
toward the centre, Weber leading ; and, while he was 
fighting hotly, French received orders from Sumner to 
press on vigorously and make a diversion in favor of the 
right. After a severe contest with the brigades of Hill 
(Colquitt's, Eipley's. and McEae's) not engaged with Jack- 
son, the Confederates were pressed back to a sunken road 
in much disorder. In the mean time, the division of Eich- 
ardson, composed of the brigades of Meagher, Caldwell, 
and Brooks, which crossed the Antietam between nine and 
ten o'clock, moved forward to the attack on French's left. 
Eight gallantly did Meagher fight his way up to the crest 
of a hill overlooking the Confederates at the sunken road, 
suff'ering dreadfully from a tempest of bullets; and when 
his ammunition was almost exhausted, Caldwell, aided by 
a part of Brooks's brigade, as gallantly came to his support 
and relief. 

Hill was now reinforced by about four thousand men, 
under E. H. Anderson, and the struggle was fierce for a 
while, the Confederates trying to seize a ridge on the 
national left for the purpose of turning that flank. This 
was frustrated by a quick and skilful movement by Colonel 
Cross with his "Fighting Fifth" New Hampshire. He 
and the Confederates had a race for the ridge along par- 
allel lines, fighting as they ran. Cross won it, and, being 



404 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Lossing 

reinforced by the Eighty-First Pennsylvania, the Confed- 
erates were driven bacls; with a heavy loss in men, and the 
colors of the Fourth North Carolina. An effort to flank 
the right at the same time was cheeked by French, Brooks, 
and a pai't of Caldwell's force, and a charge of the Con- 
federates directly on Eichardson's front was quickly re- 
pulsed. The national line was steadily advanced until the 
foe was pushed back to Dr. Piper's house, near the Sharps- 
burg road, which formed a sort of citadel for them, and 
there they made an obstinate stand. Richardson's artil- 
leiy was now brought up, and while that brave leader was 
directing the fire of Captain Graham's battery, he was 
felled by a ball that proved fatal. General "W. S. Hancock 
succeeded him in command, when a charge was made that 
drove the Confederates from Piper's in the utmost con- 
fusion, and only the skilful shoAv of strength by a few of 
his fresh troops prevented a fatal sevex^ance of Lee's line. 
The Nationals were deceived, and did not profit by the ad- 
vantage gained. Night soon closed the action on the right 
and centre, the Unionists holding the ground they had 
acquired. In the struggle near the centre, the gallant 
General Meagher was wounded and carried from the field, 
and his command devolved on Colonel Burke, of the New 
York Sixty-Third. 

During the severe conflicts of the day, until late in the 
afternoon, Porter's corps, with artillery, and Pleasonton's 
cavahy, had remained on the east side of the Antietam as 
a reserve, and in holding the road from Sharpsburg to 
Middietown and Boonsborough. Then McClellan sent 
two brigades to support the wearied right, and six bat- 
talions of Sykes's regulars were thrown across bridge No. 
2, on the Sharpsburg road, to drive away the Confederate 
sharp-shooters, who were seriousl}^ interfering with Pleas- 
onton's horse-batteries there. Warren's brigade was sent 



LossiNG] THE CONFLICT AT A N TIE T A 31. 405 

more to the left, on the right and rear of Burnside, who 
held the extreme left of the national line. This brings us 
to a notice of the operations of the day under the direc- 
tions of Burnside. 

The left was resting on the slopes opposite bridge No. 3, 
at Eohrback's farm, a little below Sharpsburg, which was 
held on the morning of the 17th by the brigade of Toombs 
(Second and Twentieth Georgia), supported by sharp- 
shooters and batteries on Longstreet's right wing, com- 
manded by D. E. Jones. Burnside was directed, at eight 
o'clock in the morning, to cross that bridge, attack the foe, 
carry the heights on the opposite bank of the Antietam, 
and advance along their crest upon Sharpsburg. It was 
a task of the greatest difficulty, for the approaches to the 
bridge wei-e in the nature of a defile, exposed to a raking 
fire from the Confederate batteries and an enfilading one 
from their sharp-shoqters. In several attemjDts to cross 
the bridge Burnside was repulsed. Finally, at about one 
o'clock in the afternoon, the Fifty-First New York and 
Fifty-First Pennsylvania chai'ged across and drove the 
defenders to the heights. Gathering strength at the 
bridge by the crossing of the divisions of Sturgis, Wilcox, 
and Eodman, and ScammOn's brigade, with the batteries 
of Durell, Clark, Cook, and Simmons, Burnside charged 
up the hill, and drove the Confederates almost to Sharps- 
burg, the Ninth New York capturing one of their bat- 
teries. Just then A. P. Hill's division, which had been 
hastening up from Harper's Feny, came upon the ground, 
and under a heavy fire of artillery charged upon Burnside's 
extreme left, and after severe fighting, in which General 
Eodman was mortally wounded, drove him back almost to 
the bridge. In that charge General L. O'B. Branch, of 
North Carolina, was killed. The pursuit was checked by 
the national artillerj- on the eastern side of the stream, 



406 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossinq 

under whose fire the reserves led by Sturgis advanced, 
and the Confederates did not attempt to retake the bridge. 
Darkness closed the conflict here, as it did all along the 
line. 

Hill came uj) just in time, apparently, to save Lee's 
army from capture or destruction. Experts say that if 
Burnside had accomplished the passage of the bridge and 
the advance movement an hour earlier, or had Porter been 
sent a few hours sooner to the support of the hard-strug- 
irlino; 3'iffht, that result would doubtless have ensued. It 
is easy to conjecture what might have been. We have to 
do only with what occurred. Looking upon the event 
from that stand-point, we see darkness ending one of the 
most memorable days of the war because of its great and 
apparently useless carnage, for the result was only hurtful 
in the extreme to both parties. With the gloom of that 
night also ended the conflict known as the Battle of An- 
tietam, in which McClellan said (erroneously as to the 
number of troops) '• neai'ly two hundred thousand men 
and five hundred pieces of artillery wei-e for fourteen hours 
engaged. Our soldiers slept that night," he said, " con- 
querors on a field won by their valor and covered by the 
dead and wounded of the enemy." 

When the morning of the 18th dawned, both parties 
seemed willing not to renew the strife. Lee was really in 
a sad plight, for he could not easily call to his aid any re- 
inforcements ; his supplies were nearly exhausted, and his 
army was terribly shattered and disorganized. A careful 
estimate has made his losses at that time, since he com- 
menced the invasion of Marj-land, a fortnight before, 
nearly thirty thousand men. McClellan's army was also 
greatly shattered ; but on the morning after the battle he 
was joined by fourteen thousand fresh troops under Couch 
and Humphreys. It is certain now that with these, and 



SwiNTON] THE BATTLE OF SHILOH. 407 

the effective remains of his army, he might easily have 
captured or ruined Lee's army that day. But there were 
grave considerations to be heeded. McClellan afterward 
said, " Virginia was lost, Washington menaced, Maryland 
invaded : the national cause could afford no risk of defeat." 
He therefore hesitated, and finally, in opposition to the 
advice of Franklin and others, he deferred a renewal of 
the battle until the next morning. When that morning 
dawned, and he sent his cavalry to reconnoitre, the national 
army had no foe to fight, for Lee, with his shattered legions, 
had recrossed the Potomac under cover of darkness, and 
was on the soil of his native Virginia, with eight batteries 
under Pendleton on the river-bluffs, menacing pursuers. 

[On the 20tb a portion of the Union army crossed the river in 
pursuit, and was repulsed with heavy loss. Lee retreated down the 
Shenandoah Valley, while McClellan, after considerable delay in re- 
organizing and refitting his forces, marched his army to Warrenton. 
His slowness gave such dissatisfaction to the authorities at Washington 
that on November 7 he was relieved from duty, and replaced by Gen- 
eral Burnside in command of the Army of the Potomac] 



THE BATTLE OF SHILOH. 

WILLIAM SWINTON. 

[The military movements of 1861 and the opening period of 1862 in 
the East were paralleled by as active operations in the West, in which 
the successes of the Union armies more than counterbalanced the Con- 
federate victories in Virginia. A brief review of these operations is 
here desirable, as preliminary to a more extended description of the 
important battle of Shiloh. Among the earliest military movements 
were those which took place in Missouri. A convention in that State 
decided against secession, and in favor of compromise. The governor, 
however, at once proceeded to act as if the State had seceded, refused 



408 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Swinton 

to furnish troops to the government, raised a militia, and attempted 
to seize the national arsenal at St. Louis. This was held by Captain 
Lyon, with five hundred regulars. Several conflicts succeeded, and, as 
the governor still sought to force the State into the Confederacy, a 
condition of actual war arose. 

General (late Captain) Lyon defeated the State troops at Booneville, 
while, in retaliation, the governor took it on himself to declare the 
State seceded and to offer its aid to the Confederacy. General Fremont 
was now made commander of the troops in Missouri. A battle took 
place on August 10, at Wilson's Creek, in which Lyon was killed, 
while General Sigel, who had been sent to gain the enemy's rear, met 
with a disastrous repulse. Each side lost heavily, and the Confeder- 
ates were unable to pursue the retreating Unionists. The armies on 
both sides gradually increased, until there were twenty-eight thousand 
Confederates and thirty thousand Unionists in the field. At this junc- 
ture Fremont was removed, as a punishment for issuing on his own 
authority a proclamation emancipating the slaves in his department. 
General Halleck, who eventually succeeded to the command of the 
Union forces, compelled the Confederate General Price to retreat to 
Arkansas. In February, 1862, General Curtis, at the head of a Union 
army, pursued Price into Arkansas. On March 7 a severe battle took 
place at Pea Ridge, in which Sigel completely routed the Confederate 
right, while on the next morning their whole army was forced to re- 
treat. This ended all operations of any importance in Missouri and 
Arkansas. The bulk of both armies was transferred to the east of the 
Mississippi, and a few unimportant contests in Arkansas completed the 
war in that quarter. 

Operations of more essential significance were meanwhile taking 
place in Kentucky and Tennessee. The political action of the former 
State resembled that of Missouri. The governor was of strong seces- 
sion sympathies, but the legislature refused to support him in his pur- 
poses. The Unionists of the State were largely in the majority, and 
clearly showed their intention of supporting the administration, despite 
the rebellious sentiments of the governor. Yet the Confederate authori- 
ties felt it absolutely necessary to their cause to take military possession 
of the State, which was invaded on the west by General Polk, who 
seized Columbus, on the Mississippi, and by General Zollicoffer on 
the east. The first engagement took place at Belmont, on the Missouri 
side of the river, opposite Columbus. General Grant attacked and de- 
feated the force at this place, but was himself assailed by a strong force 



SwiXTON] THE BATTLE OF SHILOH. 409 

under General Polk, through which he was forced to cut his way. 
Grant brought off his guns and some of those of the enemy. His 
loss was four hundred and eighty men ; that of Polk was six hundred 
and forty-two. 

These preliminary operations were succeeded by a vigorous effort on 
the part of the Confederates to form a powerful defensive line on the 
rivers leading south. Columbus was strongly fortified, to prevent the 
descent of the Mississippi, while accessory forts were built on the Ten- 
nessee and Cumberland Kivers, just within the borders of Tennessee, 
— that on the former river receiving the name of Fort Henry, that on 
the latter, of Port Donelson. An intrenched camp was also made 
farther east, at Bowling Green in Kentucky, an important railroad- 
junction. This camp covered the city of Nashville. 

In November, 1861, General Halleck was placed in command of the 
Western Department. He assigned to General Grant the district of 
Cairo, which also included Paducah, at the mouth of the Tennessee. 
The Confederate line of defence was placed under General A. S. John- 
ston. It was held by about sixty thousand men, while the post of 
Columbus was so strongly fortified that the Confederates believed that 
it would effectually close the Mississippi till the end of the war. In 
this particular they were destined to be quickly undeceived. 

The proposed Union plan of operation was the reduction of Ports 
Henry and Donelson. For this purpose two armies were available, 
that of Grant at Cairo, with seventeen thousand men and some iron- 
clad gunboats, and that of Buell at Louisville, with forty thousand 
men. Halleck believed that if these forts were taken Columbus and 
Bowling Green must be abandoned, and Nashville fall into the Union 
hands. On January 30, 1862, Grant marched southward from Cairo 
along the Tennessee, the gunboats accompanying him on the river. 
On Pebruary 6 the gunboats attacked Port Henry, which was reduced 
so quickly that the Confederate garrison escaped before Grant could 
get into position to cut off their retreat. He had been delayed by 
excessive rains, which flooded the roads. 

Attention was now given to Port Donelson, which was a strong 
work, about forty miles above the mouth of the Cumberland, with 
sixty-five pieces of artillery, and a garrison which was increased until 
it numbered twenty-one thousand men. Grant marched upon it from 
Port Henry with fifteen thousand men, while the gunboats went round 
by May of the Ohio. The attack was made on Pebruary 14. The first 
assault by the gunboats and troops failed, but, as heavy Union rein- 
II.— s 35 



410 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Swixton 

forcements were coming up, General Floyd, who commanded in the 
fort, determined to abandon it and retreat. This design ended in fail- 
ure. Grant had now reached the scene, and, perceiving the position 
of affairs, he ordered a general advance. This was pushed so vigor- 
ously that commanding points surrounding the fort were seized and 
retreat became impossible. During the night Floyd, with his Vir- 
ginia brigade, made his escape by way of the river, and the next morn- 
ing the fort was surrendered. Nearly fifteen thousand prisoners, seven- 
teen thousand six hundred small-arms, and sixty-five guns were taken. 

The eftect of this great success was what Halleck had premised. The 
camp at Bowling Green was immediately evacuated, and Nashville 
abandoned. Buell at once occupied that city. Columbus, the " Gi- 
braltar of the West," was quickly abandoned by General Polk, who 
fell back to Island No. 10. The first line of Confederate defence had 
been broken with remarkable ease and success. Nor did the Confed- 
erate misfortunes end here. Zollicoffer had invaded eastern Kentucky 
with five thousand men, and encamped at Mill Spring, in Wayne 
County. On January 17 he made a night-attack on the Union troops 
under General Thomas, encamped near him. The intended surprise 
failed, and the Confederates were driven back, Zollicoffer being killed. 
On the next day their camp was shelled, and there was reason to hope 
that the entire force would be captured. They escaped, however, 
during the night, leaving much material behind. 

The next operations were directed against New Madrid and Island 
No. 10 on the Mississippi, near the northern border of Tennessee. 
These posts had been strongly fortified. General Pope commanded 
the assailing troops, and captured New Madrid with little ditficulty. 
Thirty-three cannon and much other valuable war-material were here 
taken. Island No. 10 proved more difficult to capture. Yet by cut- 
ting a canal, twelve miles long, across a bend in the Mississippi, the 
gunboats were enabled to assail it on both sides, and Pope to transport 
his army across from Missouri to Tennessee. The advantages thus 
gained rendered the island untenable, and it was forced to surrender 
on April 8. There were captured six thousand seven hundred prison- 
ers, one hundred heavy and twenty-four light guns, an immense quan- 
tity of ammunition, and many small-arms, tents, horses, wagons, etc. 
This capture was achieved without the loss of a single life on the Union 
side. The next battle took place between the Union and Confederate 
flotillas at Fort Pillow, above Memphis. Half the Confederate fleet 
was disabled. Soon afterwards the fort was abandoned, and the line 



SwiJfTON] THE BATTLE OF SHI L OH. 411 

of defence carried south to Memphis. On the 5th of June an assault 
was made on the Confederate fleet at that place. It ended in the cap- 
ture or destruction of the whole flotilla, except one boat, and the neces- 
sary fall of Memphis into Union hands. . Thus was lost the most 
important railroad-centre on the Mississippi between St. Louis and 
New Orleans. 

This rapid series of Union successes on the Mississippi was matched 
by important steps of progress on the Tennessee. Grant had been 
ordered to advance on the line of the Tennessee towards Corinth in 
northern Mississippi. A misunderstanding with Halleck, however, 
resulted in his removal from his command, which was given to Gen- 
eral C. F. Smith. Sherman was ordered to advance, and break the 
Memphis and Charleston Railroad. He failed in this, on account of 
severe rains, and returned with some difliculty to Pittsburg Landing, 
which had been occupied at his suggestion. General Smith being now 
taken ill. Grant was restored to his command. Buell's force, of about 
forty thousand men, was ordered to join him, to counteract the Con-' 
federate concentration at Corinth. Johnston, the Confederate com 
mander, becoming aware of these movements, determined to attack 
Grant before Buell could come up, hoping to take him by surprise. 
The Confederate advance began on April 3, with about forty thousand 
men. Grant had thirty-three thousand on the field. Lew Wallace's 
command of five thousand men was at a distance, and unable to aid im- 
mediately in the coming battle. On Sunday, April 6, the assault was 
made on Grant's outposts. The story of the battle that followed we 
select from Swinton's " Twelve Decisive Battles of the War."] 

On the westerly bank of the Tennessee, two hundred 
and nineteen miles from its mouth, is the historic spot of 
Pittsburg Landing. Its site is just below the great bend 
in the river, where, having trended many miles along 
the boundary-line of Alabama, it sweeps northerly in a 
majestic curve, and thence, flowing past Fort Henry, 
pours its waters into the Ohio. The neighboring country 
is undulating, broken into hills and ravines, and wooded 
for the most part with tall oak-trees and occasional patches 
of undergrowth. Fens and swamps, too, intervene, and at 
the spring freshets the back-water swells the creeks, inun- 



412 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Swinton 

dating the roads near the river's margin. It is, in general, 
a rough and unprepossessing region, wherein cultivated 
clearings seldom break the continuity of forest. Pittsburg 
Landing, scarcely laying claim, with its two log cabins, 
even to the dignity of hamlet, is distant a dozen miles 
northeasterly from the crossing of the three State lines 
of Alabama, Mississippi, and Tennessee, — a mere point of 
steamboat freighting and debai'kation for Corinth, eighteen 
miles southwest, for Purdy, about as far northwest, and 
for similar towns on the adjoining railroads. The river- 
banks at the Landing rise quite eighty feet, but are cloven 
by a series of ravines, through one of which runs the 
main road thence to Corinth, forking to Purdy. Beyond 
^the crest of the acclivity stretches back a kind of table- 
land, rolling and ridgy, cleared near the shores, but wooded 
and rough farther from the river. A rude log chapel, three 
miles out, is called Shiloh Church ; and, just beyond, rise 
not far from each other two petty streams. Owl Creek 
and Lick Creek, which, thence diverging, run windingly 
into the Tennessee, five miles apart, on either side of the 
Landing. 

On this rugged, elevated plateau, encompassed b}^ the 
river and its little tributaries like a picture in its frame, 
lay encamped, on the night of the 5th of April, 1862, five 
divisions of General Grant's Army of West Tennessee, 
with a sixth, five miles down the bank, at Crump's Land- 
ing. . . . 

The leading division of Buell's Army of the Ohio lay at 
Savannah, nine miles down the river, on the other bank. 
Wearied that night with their four days' march from Co- 
lumbia, Nelson's men slept heavily. A long rest had been 
promised them, to be broken only the next day by a formal 
Sunday inspection, and leisurely during the week ensuing 
it would join the associate Army of West Tennessee ; for 



SwiNTON] THE BATTLE OF SHILOH. 413 

transportation bad not yet been made ready for its passage 
of tbe river, nor bad General Ilalleck yet come down from 
St. Louis to direct tbe movement on Corinth, for wbicb it 
bad marcbed. Behind Nelson, tbe rest of Buell's army 
trailed that night its line of bivouac-fires full thirty miles 
backward on the road to Columbia. 

Silent in Shilob woods yonder, within sigbt of Grant's 
camp-fii-es and within sound of bis noisy pickets, lay, 
grimly awaiting tbe dawn, forty thousand Confederate 
soldiers. It was tbe third of the tbree great armies drawn 
together tbat night towards Pittsburg Landing, — an army 
supposed by its fourscore thousand dormant foes, from 
commanding general to drummer-boy, to be lying perdu 
behind its Corinth field-works, twenty miles away. It 
had crept close to the Union lines, three-fourths of a mile 
from the pickets, less tban two from tbe main camp, — so 
close tbat throughout the nigbt the bivouac bum and stir 
and the noisy random sbots of untrained sentinels on the 
opposing lines indistinguishably mingled. Tbis stealtbily- 
moved host lay on its arms, weary after a bard day's march 
over miry roads on tbe 4th, a day's forming on tbe 5th, 
and a bivouac in the drenching rain of the nigbt inter- 
vening. No fires were lighted on tbe advanced lines, and, 
farther back, the few embers glowing bere and there were 
hidden in holes dug in the ground. Most of the men lay 
awake, prone in their blankets, or chatted in low tones, 
grouped around the slacked arms, awaiting the supplies 
which commissaries and staff-officers were hurrying from 
the rear ; for, with the improvidence of raw troops, they 
bad already spent their five days' rations at tbe end of 
three, and were ill prepared to give battle. But otbers, 
oppressed with sleep, bad for the time forgotten both cold 
and hunger. . . . 

Ere tbe gray of dawn, the advanced line of Johnston's 
II. 35* 



414 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Swinton 

army, composed of Hardee's corps, strengthened on its 
right b}^ Gladden's brigade from Bi'agg's, stealthily crept 
through the narrow belt of woods beyond which all night 
they had seen their innocent enemy's camp-fires blazing. 
No fife or drum was allowed ; the cavalry bugles sounded 
no reveille ; but, with suppressed voices, the subordinate 
oflScers roused their men, for many of whom, indeed, the 
knowledge of what was to come had proved too exciting 
for sound slumber. Bragg's line as quickly followed, and, 
in suit, the lines of Polk and Breckinridge. 

By one of those undefinable impulses or misgivings 
which detect the approach of catastrophe without physical 
warning of it, it happened that Colonel Peabody, of the 
25th Missouri, commanding the first brigade of Prentiss's 
division, became convinced that all was not right in front. 
Very early Sunday morning, therefore, he sent out three 
companies of his own regiment and two of Major Powell's 
12th Michigan, under Powell's command, to reconnoitre, 
and to seize on some advance squads of the enemy, who 
had been reported flitting about, one and a half miles 
distant from camp, on the main Corinth road. It was the 
gray of dawn when they reached the spot indicated ; and 
almost immediatel}', from long dense lines of men, coming 
swiftly through the tall trees, opened a rattling fire of 
musketry. It was the enemy in force. The little band 
fell back in haste, firing as best they might. Close on 
their heels pressed the whole of Hardee's line, and, envel- 
oping the left of Prentiss's camp, stretched in a broad 
swath across to the gap between his division and Sher- 
man's, and thence onward across Sherman's. Instantly 
the woods were alive with the rattle of musketry' right 
and left, on front and flank. The Confederate batteries, 
galloping up on every practicable road and path, unlim- 
bered in hot haste, and poured their shot over the head 



SwiNTON] THE BATTLE OF SHILOH. 415 

of the infantry in the direction of the tents now faintly 
gleaming ahead. The startled infantry outposts, mechani- 
cally returning a straggling fire, yielded, overborne by the 
mighty rush of their enemy, and then streamed straight 
back to the main camps. The divisions of Sherman, Pren- 
tiss, and 3IcClernand started from their peaceful slumbers 
amid the roar and smoke of battle. The exultant Confed- 
erates, creeping so long with painful reticence, now woke 
the forests with their fierce, long-pent yells. The flying 
pickets served, like avant-coui'iers, to point the way for 
their pursuers. And thus, with the breaking light of 
day, overhung by sulphurous battle-clouds, through which 
darted the cannon-flash, while the dim smoke curled for- 
ward through ever}' ravine and road and enveloped the 
camps. Grant's army Avoke to the battle of Shiloh. . . . 

At the height of the shouting, the forming of the troops, 
the spurring hither and thither of the aides, the fasten- 
ing of belts and boxes, and the dressing of laggards, the 
enemj-'s advance with loud yells swept through the inter- 
vening forest and burst upon the camps. 

It was now about seven o'clock, and the resistance of 
the Union picket-line, feeble as it necessarily was, had 
been of priceless service in gaining time, while the rough 
and impracticable interval over which the Confederates 
had to pass served to break up somewhat as well as to 
extend and thin their lines. There seems to have been 
no special tactical formation, nor any massing of men on 
a key -point: the key-point, if any there was, had not been 
discovered. The movement, in short, was predicated on a 
surprise, and the method, to fling the three corps-deep 
lines of the Army of the Mississippi straight against the 
Union army from creek to creek, to " drive it back into 
the Tennessee." As for the Union generals, overwhelmed 
with surprise and chagrin, they could only strike back 



416 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Swinton 

where the enemy struck, seeking above all to save the 
camps. Such was the nature of the confused, irregular, 
but bloody series of conflicts which now raged for throo 
hours, during which time the Union troops succumbed, 
and yielded the first breadth of debatable ground. 

[Onward swept the Confederates, gaining ground, now on the right, 
now on the left, till before nine o'clock they were in full possession 
of Prentiss's camp. By ten o'clock the Union forces generally had 
yielded to the impetuous onset, and the camping-ground of nearly the 
whole line was in the hands of the foe. The plundering of the camps, 
which their generals could not hinder, detained them for a time, while 
the Union commanders were doing their best to re-form their broken 
lines. For five hours the battle went on confusedly, the Union troops 
being forced slowly back to the Landing, the nature of the ground, 
rolling, wooded, and cleft by ravines, enabling them to protract their 
defence. Both lines were badly broken up, and the different brigades 
mingled, each side fighting with no definite plan, other than to hold 
their ground on the one side and to advance on the other. Later on, 
the Confederates made a desperate effort to turn the Union left, capture 
their base at the Landing, and drive them down the river. This effort 
was vigorously opposed, and during the hard fighting at this point a 
ball struck the Confederate commander, General Johnston, wounding 
him severely. He continued on his horse, unheeding the bleeding, 
and before long reeled and fell from the saddle, quickh'- expiring. 
General Beauregard succeeded to the Confederate command.] 

It was now three o'clock, and the battle was at its height. 
Dissatisfied with his reception by Wallace, on the Corinth 
road, Bragg, on hearing of Johnston's fall, on the right, 
determined to move round thither and try his success 
anew. He gathered up the three divisions already spoken 
of, and, with specific orders of attack, flung them against 
Hurlburt, Stuart, and Prentiss. The assault was irresist- 
ible, and, the whole left of the Union position giving way, 
Bragg's column drove Stuart and Hurlburt to the Landing, 
and swept through Hurlburt's camp, pillaging it like those 
of Prentiss, Sherman, Stuart, and McClernand. Simulta- 



SwiNTON] THE BATTLE OF SHILOH. 417 

neously, Polk and Hardee, rolling in from the Confederate 
left, forced back the Union right, and drove all Wallace's 
division, witli what was left of Sherman's, back to the 
Landing, — the brave W. H. L. Wallace falling in breasting 
this whelming flood. Swooping over the field, right and 
left, the Confederates gathered up entire the remainder of 
Prentiss's division, — about three thousand in number, — 
with that officer himself, and hurried them triumphantly 
to Corinth. 

At five o'clock the fate of the Union array was extremely 
critical. Its enemy had driven it by persistent fighting 
out of five camps, and for miles over every ridge and 
across every stream, road, and ravine, in its chosen camp- 
ing-ground. Pully three thousand prisoners and many 
wounded were left in his hands, and a great part of the 
artillery, with much other spoils, to grace his triumph. 
Bragg's order, " Forward ! let every order be forward ;" 
Beauregard's order, " Forward, boys, and drive them into 
the Tennessee," had been filled almost to the letter, since 
near at hand rolled the river, with no transj)ortation for 
reinforcements or for retreat. Before, an enemy flushed 
with conquest called on their leaders for the coup de grace. 
What can be done with the Union troops ? Surely the 
being at bay will give desperation. Unhappily, the whole 
army, greatly disorganized all day, was now an absolute 
wreck ; and such broken regiments and disordered battal- 
ions as attempted to rally at the Landing often found the 
officers gone on whom th.Qj were wont to rely. Not the 
divisions alone, but the brigades, the regiments, the com- 
panies, were mixed up in hopeless confusion, and it was 
only a heterogeneous mass of hot and exhausted men, 
with or without guns as might be, that converged on the 
river-bank. The fugitives covered the shore down as far 
as Crump's, where guards were at length posted to try to 
II.— 66 



418 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Swinton 

catch some of them and drive them back. The constant 
" disappearance," as the generals have it, of regiments and 
parts of regiments since morning, added to thousands of 
individual movements to the rear, had swarmed the Land- 
ing with troops enough — enough in numbers — to have 
driven the enemy back to Corinth. Their words were 
singular!}'- uniform: "We are all cut to pieces." G-eneral 
Grant says he had a dozen officers arrested for cowardice 
on the first day's battle. General Eousseau speaks of 
" ten thousand fugitives, who lined the banks of the river 
and filled the woods adjacent to the Landing." General 
Buell, before the final disaster, found at the Landing strag- 
glers by " whole companies and almost regiments ; and at 
the Landing the bank swarmed with a confused mass of 
men of various regiments. There could not have been 
less than four thousand or five thousand. Late in the day 
it became much greater." At five o'clock "the throng ol 
disorganized and demoralized troops increased continually 
by fresh fugitives," and intermingled " were great numbers 
of teams, all striving to get as near as possible to the river. 
With few exceptions, all efforts to form the troops and 
move them forward to the fight utterly failed." Nelson 
says, "I found cowering under the river-bank, when I 
crossed, from seven thousand to ten thousand men, frantic 
with fright and utterly demoralized." Of the troops lately 
driven back, he expressed the want of organization by 
saying the last position " formed a semicircle of artillery 
totally unsupported by infantry, whose fire was the only 
check to the audacious approach of the enem3\" Even 
this was not all. The Confederates, sweeping the whole 
field down to the bluff above the Landing, were already 
almost upon the latter point. Such was the outlook for 
the gallant fragments of the Union army at five o'clock 
on Sunday. 



Swinton] the battle OF SHILOH. 419 

[A precipitous ravine, near the Landing, now somewhat checked 
the pursuit, while the Union gunboats at this point began raking the 
hostile lines. A powerful battery was arranged along the ravine, 
forty or fifty guns being posted in a semicircular line. At the same 
time the advance of Nelson's division, which had just crossed the 
river, rushed forward to take part in the battle.] 

Already now the Confederates were surging and recoil- 
ing in a desperate series of final charges, "Warned by the 
descending sun to do quickly what remained to be done, 
they threw forward everything to the attempt. Their 
batteries, run to the front, crowned the inferior crest of 
the ravine, and opened a defiant fire from ridge to ridge, 
and threw shells even across the river into the woods on 
the other bank. Their infantry, wasted by the day's 
slaughter, had become almost disorganized by the plunder 
of the last two Union camps, and a fatal loss of time en- 
sued while the officers pulled them out from the spoils. 
The men, still spirited, gazed somewhat aghast at the 
gun-crowned slope above them, whence "Webster's artillery 
thundered across the ravine, while their right flank was 
swept by broadsides of eight-inch shells from the Lexing- 
ton and Tj'ler. " Forward" was the word throughout the 
Confederate line. Bragg held the right, on the southerly 
slope of the ravine, extending near the river, but pre- 
vented from reaching it by the gunboat fire ; Polk the 
centre, nearer the head of the ravine ; while Hardee car- 
ried the left bej-ond the Corinth road. At the latter point 
the line was half a mile from the water, and four hundred 
yards from the artillery on the bluffs. There were few 
organizations, even of regiments, on the "Union side, but a 
straggling line from "Wallace's and other commands, vol- 
untarily rallying near the guns, was already opening an 
independent but annoying fire ; and these resolute soldiers 
were as safe as the torrent of fugitives incessantly pouring 



420 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Swinton 

down to the Landing, among whom the Confederate shells 
were bursting;. Ao-ain and again, through the fire of the 
ai'tillery, the gunboats, and Ammen's fresh brigade, and 
the severe flanking fire of troops rallying on the Union 
right, the Confederates streamed down the ravine and 
clambered up the dense thickets on the other slope. Again 
and again they were repulsed with perfect ease, and 
amid great loss ; for, besides their natural exhaustion, the 
commands had been so broken uj) by the victory of the 
day and by the scramble for the spoils that while some 
brigades were forming others were charging, and there 
was no concerted attack, but only spontaneous rushes by 
subdivisions, speedily checked by flank fire. And when 
once some of Breckinridge's troops, on the right, did 
nearly turn the artillery position, so that some of the gun- 
ners absolutely abandoned their pieces, Ammen, who had 
just deployed, again and finall}' drove the assailants down 
the slope. 

Confident still, flushed with past success, and observing 
the Union debacle behind the artillery, Bragg and Polk 
urged a fresh and more compact assault, on the ground 
that the nearer they drew to the Union position the less 
perilous were the siege-guns and gunboats. But the com- 
mander-in-chief had been struck down, and Beauregard, 
succeeding to supreme responsibility, decided otherwise. 
Bitterly then he realized the lack of discipline and organ- 
ization in his army, entailed by the jealousy and ill-timed 
punctiliousness of Eichmond. Yictory itself had fatally 
disordered his lines, and the last hard task of assault had 
thrown them back in confusion from the almost impreg- 
nable position. Better to withdraw with victory than 
hazard final defeat ; for already the sun was in the hori- 
zon, and the musket-flashes lit up the woods. The troops 
were all intermingled, and several bria-ade commanders- 



SwiNTON] THE BATTLE OF SHILOH. 421 

had been encountered by the general, who did not know 
where their brigades were. Since darkness already threat 
ened to leave the army in dense thickets under the enemy's 
murderous fire, all that was left of the day would be re- 
quii-ed in withdrawing so disorganized a force. Buell 
could not have got more than one division along those 
miry roads to the river. It was a day's work well done : 
to-morrow should be sealed what had auspiciously begun. 
Thus reasoning, Beauregard called off the troops just as 
they were starting on another charge, and ordered them 
out of range. Then night and rain fell on the field of 
Shiloh. 

[During the night Grant's army was heavily reinforced. Three 
divisions of Buell's army, Nelson's, Crittenden's, and McCook's, had 
crossed the Tennessee by Monday morning, while Lew Wallace's di- 
vision of Grant's army, which had been led into a wrong route in its 
march from Crump's Landing on the previous day, came up at night- 
fall of Sunday. Twenty-seven thousand fresh troops had thus been 
added, while Grant's disorganized troops were gradually brought back 
into fighting trim. There were thus nearly fifty thousand men against 
about thirty thousand left to the Confederate army. By half-past five 
the advance began, Nelson and Crittenden marching steadily on the 
Confederate position. By six o'clock the battle opened, and by seven 
the advancing Union line reached Beauregard's front, where a deter- 
mined resistance was encountered.] 

The ground on which the Confederates stood was sub- 
stantially that of the camps of Prentiss, Sherman, and 
McClernand, which, having been occupied in bivouac the 
night preceding, now lay a little in rear of the line of 
battle. This line stretched in front of Lick and Owl 
Creeks, and across all the roads so often described. The 
dawn of day found the Confederates very much disorgan- 
ized. No time, however, was lost. The early advance of 
Nelson caused a rapid gathering and assorting of the 
disordered and shattered fragments of Beauregard, who 
II. 36 



422 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Swinton 

met the onset with so firm a front that Nelson found him- 
self checked. At length Crittenden's division came up 
to Nelson's right, and Mendenhall's battery, hurrying 
across, engaged the Confederate batteries and stayed the 
infantry advance. Despite their fatigue, Beauregard was 
already hurling his concentrated columns to an attack on 
his right ; he had engaged all of Nelson and Crittenden, 
and before eight o'clock had also fallen upon Eousseau's 
brigade of McCook's division, which had just then com- 
pleted its formation on Crittenden's right. At eight 
o'clock, Cheatham's division, which had been posted hith- 
erto, awaiting orders, in the rear of Shiloh Church, was 
thi'own in, in front of Buell, on Breckinridge's line. The 
fire on the Confederate right, which had before been hot, 
was now redoubled, and rolled across all three of Buell's 
divisions. So severe was the artiller}^ fire that Hazen's 
brigade was thrown across the open field into the fringe 
of woods where two batteries were posted, in order to 
dislodge them. Buell was then at Hazen's position, aiid in 
person gave the command " Forward !" which ran echoing 
along the line and was obeyed with a cheer. These troops 
had never before been in battle, but were in splendid drill 
and discipline, and moved forward in the best possible 
order. They soon caught the enemy's volleys, but did 
not slacken their pace ; for it was a novel experience, and 
they did not resort, like veterans, to trees or cover. 
Driving in some outlying infantry supports, of whom not 
a few were sent as prisoners to the rear, Hazen, after half 
a mile of advance, got upon the batteries themselves. 
But at this moment the gallant brigade received a cross- 
fire from both flanks from the rallied enemy, and, being 
without support on either hand, was forced to fall back, 
with a loss of one-third of its men. The sally had been 
a little too impetuous, so much so as to break up the or- 



SwiNTON] THE BATTLE OF SHILOH. 423 

ganization ; but it was one quite natural at so early a daj- 
in the war, and was a mistake in the right direction. 

[About nine o'clock the Confederates succeeded in turning Nelson's 
left flank, but were driven back, while Lew "Wallace and Grant's 
other forces pressed heavily upon their left, forcing them to recede 
The ground at this point was hotly contested, both sides gaining tem- 
porary advantages, but by one o'clock Nelson had swung round the 
Confederate right and gained a firm hold on that part of the field.] 

Let us turn now to McCook. On Crittenden's right 
Rousseau's brigade was early engaged, sustaining the at- 
tack of eight o'clock, and the heavier succeeding ones. 
Meanwhile, Kirk's brigade and a part of Gibson's had 
been ferried across from Savannah, hurried to the ground, 
and were deployed by McCook in short supporting dis- 
tance to the right and rear of Rousseau. Willich's regi- 
ment he held in reserve behind his second line. McCook 
shared the varying fortunes of the morning, till the grad- 
ual giving way of the Confederate right by ten o'clock. 
Then Rousseau, finding his advance no longer checked, 
moved onward till he encountered the troops withdrawn 
to the Corinth road from Nelson's front. Here a fierce 
and long-contested engagement took place, the Confeder- 
ates forming in McClernand's camp, to which they clung 
with desperation, but which at length they were forced to 
abandon to Rousseau, together with a battery captured 
the day before, of which one section had been playing on 
Rousseau's advance. But, as the Union line swept for- 
ward, McCook and Crittenden had become separated, and a 
counter-attack on McCook's left threatened to turn it, and 
was the signal for a fierce struggle. There then came a 
lull, and at one o'clock the battle began with fresh fury. 
McCook had reached a key-point in the Confederate line, 
a green wood about five hundred yards east of the church. 
Two batteries, one next the church and the other nearer 



424 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Swikton 

the Hamburg road, swept the open space with grape and 
canister in front of the green wood, and the musketry- 
fire was very severe. Grant hurried forwai"d what aid he 
could to JVIcClernand, Hurlburt putting in the remainder 
of his division, and Sherman appearing with his brigades. 
"Here," says Sherman, "at the point where the Corinth 
road crosses the line of General McClernand's camp, I saw 
for the first time the well-ordered and compact Kentucky 
forces of General Buell, whose soldierly movement at 
once gave confidence to our newer and less disciplined 
forces. Here I saw Willich's regiment advance upon a 
point of water-oaks and thicket, behind which I knew the 
enemy was in great strength, and enter it in beautiful 
style. Then arose the severest musketry fire I ever heard, 
and lasted some twenty minutes, when this splendid regi- 
ment had to fall back." Indeed, the conflict, arising on 
McCook's left, had spx-ead all along his front and over that 
of Crittenden. Willich's regiment, having passed through 
Kirk's brigade, to the front, was thrown across to the 
green wood, in double column on the centre, with the 
flank companies skirmishing in advance. Then it re- 
ceived the overpowering attack which Sherman witnessed. 
At this juncture Kirk's brigade got into position on 
McCook's left, and Eousseau, who had expended all his 
ammunition in the morning's battle, retired through it to 
the rear for a fresh supply. Gibson was next thrown in on 
Kirk's left. For an hour a terrific contest went on, the 
Confederates holding their position tenaciously, and some- 
times even taking the offensive. Finally, at two o'clock, 
Eousseau's brigade again moved to the front, supported 
by one of Hurlburt's brigades on the left and by McCler- 
nand on the right. McCook had no artillery; but the 
three un captured guns of Wood's battery and two of 
McAllister's were turned by McClernand and Sherman 



Swinton] the battle OF SHILOH. 425 

against the enemy. Finding the Confederates at last 
giving way before him, McCook ordered a general ad- 
vance, and Eousseau's brigade, "beautifully deployed," 
says Sherman, " entered the dreaded wood, and moved in 
splendid order steadily to the front, sweeping everything 
before it." Indeed, the battle was already decided. At 
half-past one o'clock, Beauregard had issued orders to 
withdraw from the field. The last desperate fighting 
covered the attempt, and the final Union advance at two 
o'clock was comparatively unresisted. The withdi-awal 
commenced on the Confederate right, in front of Nelson, 
and was transmitted to the left. At the latter point, Lew 
Wallace had steadily swung forwai'd, participating in the 
varying fortunes of the day. His division also, at two 
o'clock, finding the obstinate enemy giving way, burst 
through the woods, easily carrying all before them. The 
Confederate retreat was conducted with perfect order and 
precision. Half a mile distant from Shiloh Church, on a 
commanding ridge, a reserve, selected for that purpose, 
was drawn up in line of battle for the expected attack. 

It did not come. Having wasted half an hour, the line 
was withdrawn a mile further. Here the artillery played 
for a time upon a small Union column advanced in pur- 
suit ; but no engagement took place, and even this desul- 
tory firing ceased by four o'clock. The battle of Shiloh 
was over. 

[This battle was followed by a concentration of all the Union ar- 
mies of the West, and an advance on Corinth, General Halleck taking 
command. His army, in round numbers, now amounted to one hun- 
dred and twenty thousand men. That of Beauregard had been in- 
creased to about fifty thousand. The advance was made so slowly and 
cautiously that the Confederates, who had decided to evacuate Corinth^ 
succeeded in getting out all their war-material before Halleck reached 
there, on the 30th of May. The place was at once strongly fortified 
as a Union stronghold. Shortly afterwards, on June 6, the naval 
II. 36* 



426 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Headlkx 

battle at Memphis, above described, took place, and that town was 
captured. All West Tennessee and Northern Mississippi were now 
in Union hands, and highly-important progress had been made in the 
labor of conquering the West and South. Grant remarks that up to 
the battle of Shiloh he had shared in the general belief that a decisive 
Union victory would cause the sudden collapse of the Confederacy. 
The stand of the Confederates after that battle taught him differently. 
He perceived now that complete conquest was necessary. Sherman 
seems to have been of this opinion from the first.] 



FARRAGUT ON THE MISSISSIPPI. 

J. T. HEADLEY. 

[The rapid series of successes won by the armies of the West in 
early 1862, which gave them the full control of the Mississippi as far 
south as Memphis, was paralleled by as important a victory on the 
lower section of the river, which caused the fall of New Orleans, and 
left only the section of the river between that city and Memphis to be 
opened and occupied. The achievement in question was accomplished 
by the navy, and constituted one of the most brilliant and striking 
events of the war. Preceding a description of it, some brief review 
of the general operations of the navy is desirable. 

In August, 1861, an expedition was sent to Hatteras Inlet, by which 
Fort Hatteras was captured. In November of the same year a power- 
ful land and naval force was sent to the coast of South Carolina. This 
assailed Port Eoyal Harbor, forced the surrender of the forts, and cap- 
tured the post. It proved an important conquest, from its giving the 
North a convenient naval depot on the Southern coast, and the control 
of the richly-fertile Sea-Island district. Fort Pulaski, one of the de- 
fences of Savannah, was also captured, and that city closely blockaded, 
while several coast cities in Florida were occupied. About the same 
time the English mail-steamer Trent was overhauled by Captain Wilkes, 
of the sloop-of-war San Jacinto, and Mason and Slidell, two Confed- 
erate commissioners to Europe, were forcibly taken from her. This 
unwarranted affair, which was at first sustained by the government, 



Hkadley] FARRAGUT ON THE MISSISSIPPI. 427 

caused danger of war between the United States and England, which 
was avoided by a somewhat ungracefully performed acknowledgment 
of error and surrender of the prisoners. The United States was clearly 
in the wrong, but circumstances rendered it difficult to admit it imme- 
diately, in face of the enthusiastic popular indorsement of the action. 
In March, 1862, the port of New-Berne, in North Carolina, was 
captured by the fleet, and in April Fort Macon, commanding the en- 
trance to Beaufort harbor, was taken. Koanoke Island was also occu- 
pied. These successes gave control of the whole coast of North Caro- 
lina, and aided greatly in making the blockade effective. The next 
naval operation was directed against the lower Mississippi, with the 
eventual object of the capture of New Orleans. Vigorous efforts had 
been made by the Confederates to render this stream impassable, by 
the erection of strong forts and batteries, the arming of gunboats, and 
the building of iron-clad vessels, which were to be superior in strength 
to the Merrimack. Two large steam-ships of this class were being 
prepared, of about fourteen hundred tons each, to be strongly plated, 
and each mounted with twenty of the heaviest guns. One only of 
these, the Louisiana, was completed in time to take part in the subse- 
quent battle. Powerful rams and fire-rafts were also prepared, while 
the navigation of the river was obstructed by six heavy chains, carried 
across the stream on a line of dismasted schooners. This was placed 
about a mile below the forts. The story of the succeeding events, 
which partly negatived the lesson taught by the exploits of the Merri- 
mack, and proved that wooden vessels might, under certain circum- 
stances, successfully encounter iron-plated ones, is told with much 
vividness of description in Headley's " Civil War in America."] 

The month of April closed gloriously for the national 
cause in the Valley of the Mississippi ; for it gave us New 
Orleans, the most important city of the Southern Confed- 
eracy, and thus made certain to us the final possession of 
the entire river. 

Captain Farragut, with a fleet of gunboats, and Porter, 
with a mortar-fleet, had long since left our Northern waters 
for some unknown point. Much anxiety had been felt for 
its success ; and when at length news was received that 
it had left Ship Island, where it was known to have rendez- 



428 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Headley 

voused, for New Orleans, accompanied by a land-force under 
Butler, great fears were entertained of its ability to force 
the formidable barriers that blocked the river below the 
city. 

Two forts, Jackson and St. PhiHp, nearly opposite each 
other, the former very strong and casemated, the two 
mounting in all two hundred and twenty-five guns, com- 
manded the approach. In addition to these, a heavy chain 
had been stretched across the channel, buoyed upon 
schooners, and directly under the fire of the batteries, so 
that any vessels attempting to remove it could be sunk. 
There were, besides, heavily-mounted iron-clad gunboats, 
ponderous rams, before whose onset the strongest ship 
would go down, and fire-rafts and piles of drift-wood, 
ready to be launched on our advancing vessels. It was 
believed by the rebels that nothing that ever floated could 
safely pass all these obstructions ; but should some few by 
a miracle succeed, bands of j'oung men were organized in 
New Orleans to board them at all hazard and capture 
them. 

Such were the obstacles that presented themselves to 
Farragut and Porter as they, in the middle of April, 
slowly steamed up the mighty river. 

It was laborious work getting the fleet over the bars at 
the mouth of the Mississipi^i, and up the rapid stream, to 
the scene of action, for the mortar-boats were not steamers. 
"Weeks were occupied in it, and the North almost began 
to despair of hearing any good report of the expedition, 
and eventually it was quite lost sight of in the absorbing 
news from the upper Mississippi and the Tennessee. But, 
though shut out from the world, its gallant commanders 
were quietly but energetically preparing for the herculean 
task assigned them. 

Six war-steamers, sixteen gunboats, twenty-one mortar- 



Headley] FARRAGUT ON THE MISSISSIPPI. 429 

vessels, with five other national vessels, among them the 
Harriet Lane, Porter's flag-ship, making in all nearly fifty 
armed vessels, constituted the entire force. It was a for- 
midable fleet, but it had formidable obstacles to overcome. 

On the 18th the bombardment commenced, and the first 
day nearly two thousand shells were thrown into the forts. 
Some burst beyond them, others in raid-air, and some not 
at all, while hundreds fell with a thundering crash inside 
the works, cracking the strongest casemates in their pon- 
derous descent. On one side of the river the mortar- 
vessels lay near some trees on the bank, and the men 
dressed the masts in green foliage to conceal their position. 
Decked out as for a Christmas festival, they could not be 
distinguished at the distance of the forts from the trees, so 
that the enemy had only the smoke that canopied them 
for a mark to aim at. On the other side, tall reeds fringed 
the banks, and the vessels in position there were covered 
with rushes and flags and daubed with Mississippi mud, 
which sadly confused the artillerists in the forts. The 
exact distance from the spot where they lay anchored, to 
the forts, had been determined by triangulation, conducted 
by the Coast Survey party under Captain Gurdes. The 
surveys to accomplish this had been performed under the 
fire of the enemy, and great coolness and daring were 
shown by the party. The sailors had wondered at the 
presence of a Coast Survey vessel, carrying a crew armed 
with nothing more formidable than surveying-instruments, 
save a few pocket revolvers, but it was now seen that 
science must fii'st prepare the way before the heavy shells 
could perform their appropriate work. 

Early in the morning of the day on which the bombard- 
ment commenced, the rebels set adrift a huge flat-boat piled 
with pitch-pine cord-wood in a blaze. As it came down 
the stream, the flames roared and crackled like a burning 



430 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Headlet 

forest, while huge columns of black smoke rose in swift, 
spiral columns skyward. As it drifted near, two of our 
advanced vessels hastily slipped their cables and moved 
down stream. At first it was feared the blazing structure 
might contain torpedoes or explosive machines of some 
kind, and rifled shot were thrown into it. But it floated 
hajrmless by, lighting up the muddy stream as it receded 
In order to be prepared for another, Captain Porter ordered 
all the row-boats of the flotilla to be prepared with grap- 
nels, ropes, buckets, and axes. At sunset this fleet of a 
hundred and fifty boats was reviewed, passing in single 
line under the Harriet Lane, each answering to the hail 
of the commander, " Fire-buckets, axes, and ropes ?" " Ay, 
ay, sir." 

About an hour afterward, just as night had set in. a 
huge column of black smoke was seen to rise from the 
river in the vicinity of the forts. Signal-hghts were im- 
mediately hoisted on all the vessels, and the next moment 
a hundred boats shot out in the darkness, ready for action. 
A fire-raft was on its fearful way, lighting up the broad 
bosom of the Mississippi with its pyramid of flame, and 
sending the sparks in showers into the sm-rounding dark- 
ness. It made a fearful sight, and seemed well calculated 
to accomplish its mission of destruction. On it came, 
slowly and majestically, swinging easily to the mighty 
current, when suddenly the Westfield opened her steam- 
valves and dashed fearlessly into the burning pile. Bury- 
ing herself amid the crashing timbers and flying sparks. 
her captain turned a hose upon it, and a stream of water 
as from a fire-engine played upon the lurid mass. The 
next moment the crowd of boats approached — the bronzed 
faces of the sailors, with buckets and ropes, standing out 
in bold relief in the broad glare — and fastened to the 
horrid phantom. Then, pulling with a will, they slowly 



Headlet] FARRAGUT ON THE MISSISSIPPI. 431 

towed it ashore, where they left it to consume ignobly 
away. It was bravely done, and as the boats returned 
they were cheered by the entire fleet. 

For a whole week the bombardment was kept up, while 
shot and shell from the enemy fell in a constant shower 
amid the squadron. 

The gunners on the mortar-boats were getting worn 
out, and, when released from the guns, would drop down 
exhausted on deck. They began at last to grumble at the 
inactivity of the larger vessels. 

At length Farragut determined to run the rebel bat- 
teries, engage the gunboats and rams beyond, and then 
steam up to New Orleans, cost what it would. The chain 
had been cut a few nights before, and the schooners that 
sustained it were trailing along the river bank. On the 
23d of April, everything being ready, at two o'clock signal 
lanterns were hoisted from the Hartford's mizzen peak, 
and soon the boatswain's call, " Up all hammocks," rang 
over the water. It was known the evening before that 
the desperate conflict would come off in the morning, and 
there was but little sleep in the fleet that night. The 
scene, the hour, and the momentous issues at stake made 
every man thoughtful. Not a breeze ruffled the surface 
of the river; the forts were silent above; the stars looked 
serenely down, while the deep tranquillity that rested on 
shore and stream was broken only by the heavy boom, 
every ten minutes, of a gun from the boats on watch. 
But the moment those two signal lanterns were run up on 
the flag-ship, all this was changed. The rattling of chains, 
the heaving of anchors, and commands of officers trans- 
formed the scene of quietness into one of bustle and stern 
preparation. In an hour and a half everything was ready, 
and the flag-ship, followed by the Eichmond and Brooklyn 
and six gunboats, turned their prows up the river, steering 



432 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Headlet 

straight for Fort Jackson. The Pensacola, Mississippi, 
Oneida, and Yaruna, under Captain Bailey, with four gun- 
boats, came next, and were to engage Fort Philip. The 
Harriet Lane, Westfield, Owasco, Miami, Clifton, and 
Jackson, under Porter, came last, and were to take posi- 
tion where they could pour an enfilading fii-e of grape and 
shrapnel into Fort Jackson while Farragut hurled his 
heavy broadsides into it in front. As soon as the fleet 
started on its terrible mission, all the mortai'-boats opened 
their fire, and, canopied by the blazing shells, that, cross- 
ing and recrossing in every direction, wove their fiery 
net-work over the sky and dropped with a thunderous 
sound into the doomed works, the flag-ship, accompanied 
by her consorts, steamed swiftly forward through the 
gloom. As soon as they came within range, signal rockets 
darted up from the low fortifications, and the next instant 
the volcano opened. Taking the awful storm in perfect 
silence, Farragut kept steadily on till he was close abreast, 
when his broadsides opened. As each shijD came up, it 
delivered its broadside, and on both sides of the river it 
was one continuous stream of fire, and thunder-peal that 
shook the shores like an earthquake. For half an hour it 
seemed as if all the explosive elements of earth and air 
were collected there. The vessels did not stop to engage 
the forts, but, delivering their broadsides, swept on towards 
the gunboats beyond. Fix*e-rafts now came drifting down 
the tide, lighting up the pandemonium with a fiercer glare, 
and making that early morning wild and awful as the last 
day of time. The shot and shell from nearly five hundred 
cannon filled all the air, and it seemed as if nothing made 
with human hands could survive such a storm. The 
Ithaca, with a shot through her, was compelled to drop 
out of the fight, in doing which she came under the close 
fire of the fort, and was completely riddled, yet, strange 



Headley] FARRAGUT ON THE MISSISSIPPI. 43.3 

to say, only two of her crew were struck. Exploding 
shells filled the air, hot shot crashed through the hulls, 
yet the gallant fleet, wrapped iu the smoke of its own 
bi'oadsides, moved on in its pathway of flame, while the 
river ahead was filled with fire-rafts and iron-clad gun- 
boats, whose terrible fire, crossing that of the fort, swept 
the whole bosom of the stream. Sharp-shooters crowded 
the rigging, dropping their bullets incessantly upon our 
decks, yet still the commander's signal for close action 
streamed in the morning breeze, and still that fleet kej)t 
on its determined way. An immense iron-clad vessel, the 
Louisiana, lay moored near Fort Jackson, armed with 
heavy rifled guns, which sent the shot through and 
through our vessels, while ours rattled like j^eas on her 
mailed sides. The famous ram Manassas came down on 
the flag-ship, pushing a fire-raft before her. In attempting 
to avoid the collision, Farragut got aground, when the 
raft came plump alongside. The flames instantly leaped 
through the rigging, and ran along the sides of his vessel, 
and for a moment he thought it was all up with him. But, 
ordering the hose to turn a stream of water upon the fire, 
he succeeded in extinguishing it, and, backing ofi", again 
poured in his broadsides. 

The Yaruna, Captain Boggs, attacked the rebel gunboats 
with such fury that he sunk five in succession, their dark 
hulls disappearing with awful rapidity under the turbid 
waters. Even then his work was not done, for a ram 
came driving full upon him. He saw at once he could not 
avoid the collision, and knew that his fate was sealed. 
But, instead of hauling down his flag, he resolved, since 
he could not save his ship, to carry his adversary down 
with him, and, bidding the pilot throw the vessel so that 
her broadsides would bear on the vulnerable pai't of the 
rebel, he sternly received the blow. The sides of the 
II. — T cc 37 



434 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Headlet 

Varuna were crushed by it as though made of egg-shells. 
As the ram backed off, the water poui'ed in like a torrent, 
and he ordered the pilot to run her, with all steam on, 
ashore. In the mean time his broadsides, fired at such 
close range, made fearful openings in the enemy's hull, and 
she too began to settle in the water, and attemjJted to 
haul off. But those terrible broadsides were too swift for 
her, and they were poured in till the gun-carriages were 
under the water. The last shot just skimmed the surface 
as the hissing guns became submerged, and the gallant 
vessel went down with her flag flying, carrying her dead 
with her. A more fitting tomb for them could not be 
found than the hull of that immortal boat. 

A boy, named Oscar, only thirteen years old, was on 
board, and during the hottest of the fire was busily en- 
gaged in passing ammunition to the gunners, and narrowly 
escaped death when one of the terrific broadsides of the 
enemy was poured in. Covered with dirt and begrimed 
with powder, he was met by Captain Boggs, who asked 
where he was going in such a hurry : " To get a passing- 
box, sir; the other was smashed by a ball." When the 
Varuna went down, Boggs missed the boy, and thought 
he was among the killed. But a few minutes after he saw 
the lad gallantly swamming towards the wreck. Clam- 
bering on boai'd, he threw his hand up to his forehead, in 
the usual salute, and with the simple, " All right, sir : I 
report myself on board," coolly took up his old station. 
Though a boy, he had an old head on his shoulders, and. 
if he lives and is given an opportunity, will be heard from 
in the future. 

The Kineo was accidentally run into by the Brooklyn, 
and badly stove, j-et she fought her way steadily forward, 
though receiving twelve shots in her hull, and, with 
twelve others, passed the terrible ordeal. The description 



Headley] FARRAGUT ON THE MISSISSIPPI. 435 

of the conduct of one boat is a description of all. Though 
riddled with shot from the forts, they closed in with the 
rebel gunboats so fiercelj^ that in an hour and a half eleven 
went to the bottom of the Mississippi. 

The victory was won, and the combat ended, yet the 
maddened enemy could not wholly surrender, and the ram 
Manassas came down on the Eichmond. The Mississippi, 
seeing her intentions, instantly steamed towards her, when 
the affrighted crew ran her ashore. Even after the sur- 
render was made, and while terms of capitulation were 
being agreed on, the rebels cut adrift the Louisiana, which 
had cost nearly two millions of dollars, and sent her down 
past the fort amid our mortar-fleet. She failed, however, 
to do any damage, and soon went ashore. 

The forts being passed, New Orleans was ours ; yet still 
the former, though completely cut off, refused to surrender. 

Farragut sent Captain Boggs in an open boat through 
a bayou, inland, to Poller, to report his success. One 
would have thought from his letter that he had encoun- 
tered scarcely more than pretty stormy weather. " We 
have had a rough time of it, as Boggs will tell you," he 
says, and then proceeds to tell him that as soon as he 
goes to New Orleans he will come back and finish the 
forts. 

The next morning he steamed up towards the aston- 
ished city. The inhabitants had deemed it unapproacha- 
ble by any naval armament whatever, and in their fancied 
security were building vessels of offensive warfare that 
soon would have given us far more trouble than the Mer- 
rimack. Lovell, in command of the troops in the city, im- 
mediately left, for it lay completely at the mercy of our 
vessels. The mayor undertook to avoid the humiliation 
of a formal capitulation, and wrote a ridiculous letter to 
the commander ; but it mattered little how it was done,— 



436 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Badeau 

the great commercial port of the Confederate States sur- 
rendered, and the most difficult part of opening the navi- 
gation of the Mississippi was accomplished. 



THE SIEGE OF VICKSBURG. 

ADAM BADEAU. 

[The capture of the defences of the upper Mississippi, and the fall 
of New Orleans with the forts that covered it, by no means completed 
the task of opening the great Western river, four hundred miles of 
which remained under Confederate control. Two strongly-fortified 
places, Vicksburg on the north and Port Hudson on the south, with 
an intermediate intrenched position at Grand Gulf, defended this por- 
tion of the river, and were destined to give the Union armies no small 
trouble before they could be taken and the river again made a national 
highway. Before describing the movements by which this great pur- 
pose was effected, it is necessary to bring up our review of Western 
events to the date of these operations. 

The advance of Lee into Maryland had its parallel in a vigorous 
northward raid made by Bragg in the West, in which he crossed the 
national line of defence and advanced nearly to the Ohio. The cap- 
ture of Corinth by the Union forces had been succeeded by some im- 
portant military operations, which may be briefly epitomized. Chat- 
tanooga, a town situated on the Tennessee River just north of the 
Georgia State line, and on the eastern flank of the Cumberland Moun- 
tains, became now a point of great military importance, and Buell 
was ordered to occupy it with his array. He commenced his march 
on June 10, 1862, but moved too deliberately to effect his purpose. 
Bragg, the Confederate commander, as soon as he discerned the object 
of Buell's march, hastened with the greatest rapidity to the place, and 
took firm possession of it before Buell could reach it. The latter was 
forced to retreat, and reinforcements were sent him from Grant's army, 
to strengthen him against an advance by Bragg. This fact was taken 
advantage of by Price and Van Dorn, who confronted Grant with a 
force of considerable strength. They made movements intended to 



Babeau] the siege OF VICKSBURQ. 437 

induce Grant to weaken his army still further, hoping for an oppor- 
tunit}' to seize Corinth. Grant at once assumed the offensive. Rose- 
crans was sent to luka, to which place Price had advanced. He 
reached this place on September 19. A battle ensued, which ended In 
both sides holding their ground. During the night, however, the Con- 
federates decamped, and marched too rapidly to be overtaken. On 
October 3, Van Dorn and Price in conjunction assailed Kosecrans at 
Corinth, Grant being then at Jackson. Rosecrans had about twenty 
thousand men. The Confederates had about forty thousand, and made 
their assault with great vigor and persistency. Their charge on the 
works, however, ended in a severe and sanguinary repulse and a hasty 
retreat, in which they were pursued for sixty miles. They lost, in 
killed, wounded, and prisoners, about nine thousand men. The Union 
loss was about two thousand four hundred. 

While these operations were taking place, Bragg was engaged in an 
invasion of Kentucky that threatened disaster to the Union cause. 
He marched actively northward with an army of fifty thousand men, 
reaching the line of the Nashville and Louisville Railroad at Mun- 
fordsville, whose garrison he captured. A division of his army, under 
Kirby Smith, marched from Knoxville, and at Richmond, Kentucky, 
i-outed General Manson. Smith claimed to have killed and wounded 
one thousand and taken five thousand prisoners, with a valuable spoil 
in arms, ammunition, and provisions. He then passed through Lex- 
ington, and reached Cynthiana. 

This raid had necessitated a rapid reverse movement on the part of 
Buell, who was forced with all haste to march from southern Tennes- 
see to the Ohio, a distance of three hundred miles. From Munfords- 
ville Bragg moved to Fninkfort, where he formed a junction with 
Kirby Smith. The one had made feigned movements against Nash- 
ville, and the other against Cincinnati, but intercepted despatches 
taught Buell that their true object was Louisville, and to this place he 
hastened with all speed. Bragg had moved too slowly. He had been 
six weeks in marching from Chattanooga to Frankfort. Yet he would 
have captured Louisville but for detention by a burnt bridge, which 
enabled Buell to get in advance. The latter had hastened north with 
the utmost speed, leaving a garrison at Nashville, and* reaching Louis- 
ville on September 25. He found that city in a panic. At this point 
he was reinforced by troops from all quarters, till his army reached the 
number of one hundred thousand men. 

Meanwhile, Bracrg had issued a proclamation to the Kentuckians, 
II. ^' 



438 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Badead- 

in emulation of that which Lee had issued in Maryland, and with like 
unsatisfactory results. The people of Kentucky had fully decided to 
remain in the Union. Bragg's foraging-parties scoured and devastated 
the surrounding country, carrying oif all the spoil they could find. 
Men were conscripted and forced into his army. He now commenced 
a deliberate retreat, while Buell advanced upon him. A severe battle 
took place on October 8 at Perryville, in which both sides lost heavily 
and neither gained a decisive advantage. Bragg's retreat, however, 
continued, and he reached Chattanooga without further loss. Buell's 
movements in pursuit were so annoyingly slow that he was removed 
from his command by the government and replaced by Eosecrans. 
Bragg's expedition, so far as political ends were concerned, had proved 
a failure. He had, however, carried ofi' vast quantities of provisions 
and clothing. 

New movements quickly supervened. Eosecrans at once reorganized 
his army, and concentrated it at Nashville. Bragg had hardly reached 
Chattanooga before he was ordered to march northward again. He 
reached Murfreesborough, to the south of Nashville, whence he sent 
out detachments of cavalry to cut Eosecrans's communications, and 
where he indulged in Christmas festivities, with Davis, the Confederate 
President, as his guest. Yet Eosecrans had no intention of remaining 
idle. He made a sudden march on December 26, drove back the Con- 
federate outposts, and on the 30th confronted Bragg, who was stationed 
two miles in front of Murfreesborough. Eosecrans had forty-three 
thousand and Bragg sixty-two thousand men. A battle took place at 
this point on the 31st, Bragg assailing with such strength as to drive 
back the right wing of the Union army. The next division, com- 
manded by Sheridan, held its own with much energy, but was finally 
forced back, though in unbroken order. The other divisions were 
obliged to follow. 

So far the advantage had been with the Confederates. But Eose- 
crans readjusted his army, formed a new line, and awaited the tri- 
umphant advance of his foe. The assault was tremendous, but it was 
met with a withering iire of musketry and artillery, and, though four 
times repeated, the Union line remained unbroken. A fresh division 
of seven thousand men was brought forward and assailed Eosecrans's 
left flank, but with the same ill fortune. Night fell, the closing night 
of 1862. On New- Year's day the armies faced each other without a 
renewal of the battle. So they continued till the 3d, Eosecrans strongly 
intrenching his position. On the night of the 3d Bragg secretly with- 



Badeau] the siege OF VICKSBURG. 439 

drew, leaving his antagonist in possession of the battle-field, though 
too much crippled to pursue. Each army had lost about one-fourth 
of its whole force. Rosecrans had lost more than a third of his artil- 
lery, and a large portion of his train. But he had bravely held his 
ground, and taught his enemies that the Ohio River was beyond their 
reach. The Cumberland Mountains were thenceforward to be the 
boundary of the Confederacy in that quarter. 

The military events in the West during 1863 were of the utmost 
importance, ending in the opening of the Mississippi and the capture 
of Chattanooga. The first achievement had been attempted by Farra- 
gut, immediately after the talking of New Orleans. He sent a part of 
his fleet up the river, captured Baton Rouge and Natchez, and advanced 
to Yicksburg. This city refused to surrender, and was bombarded by 
Farragut, who ran the batteries with his fleet. Orders from Washing- 
ton checked these operations, there being no land-force ready to co- 
operate, and the fleet being unable to silence the batteries. 

In the autumn of 1862 Grant made his first eiforts towards his 
projected reduction of Vicksburg. His army was now large, and he 
advanced, driving Pemberton, the Confederate commander at Vicks- 
burg, before him. Sherman was sent with a strong force to march 
down the Mississippi, while Grant moved by an inland route, to take 
the city in the rear. His scheme was frustrated by an unforeseen 
event. Holly Springs had been established as his depot of supplies. 
Van Dorn, with the Confederate cavalry, made a rapid movement to 
Grant's rear, and captured this place, then guarded by only a single 
regiment, on December 20. The vast stores that had been accumu- 
lated, valued at more than two millions of dollars, were destroyed by 
fire. Grant was forced to give up his overland route, and move to 
the river. 

In the mean time, Sherman had reached the vicinity of Vicksburg. 
At this locality a line of high blufi"s border the river, with but a nar- 
row space between them and the stream. The Yazoo River joins the 
Mississippi above the city, while the surrounding soil is cut by numer- 
ous deep bayous, and the low lands are very swampy. A fortified 
line, fifteen miles in length, had been constructed along the bluffs. 
Sherman made a strong but ineflectual assault upon the fortifications, 
and found that the Confederates were being reinforced so rapidly, while 
he was surrounded with such difficulties, that he was obliged to abandon 
the expedition. The only success gained was the reduction of a strong- 
hold on the Arkansas River, which had served as a basis for steamboat 



440 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Badeatj 

expeditions against his line of supplies. Here five thousand prisoners 
and much valuable material were taken. 

The fortifications at Viclcsburg were now strengthened until it be- 
came an exceedingly strong post. Grand Gulf and Port Hudson, 
farther down the river, were also fortified. Against these strongholds 
the efforts of the Western armies were now mainly directed. General 
Banks, aided by Farragut's fleet, entered upon the siege of Port Hud- 
son, while Grant put forward all his strength against Vicksburg, as- 
sisted by the gunboats under Admiral Porter. The Army of the Ten- 
nessee now numbered one hundred and thirty thousand men, of whom 
fifty thousand men took part in the expedition against Vicksburg. 
Porter had a fleet of sixty vessels, carrying two hundred and eighty 
guns and eight hundred men. 

Grant arrived and took command of the expedition on January 30, 
1863. The first plan of operations adopted was to dig a canal across 
the neck of land made by a wide bend in the river at Vicksburg, with 
the hope that the Mississippi would take this new course and abandon 
the city. Two months were spent on this, yet a rise in the river ren- 
dered the labor unavailing, by overflowing all the surrounding space. 
Then strenuous efforts were made to transport the fleet and army below 
Vicksburg by way of the bayous and larger streams that bordered the 
river. Efibrts of this kind were made both east and west of the river, 
but in both cases without success. The surrounding country mean- 
while was so overflowed and marshy as to interfere greatly with land- 
operations. It was next determined to run the batteries with the fleet. 
The night of the 16th of April was fixed for this exploit. It was 
achieved with much greater success than had been expected. Several 
of the vessels were wrecked, but the great bulk of the fleet passed in 
safety. A land-force had been sent down west of the river, to meet 
the vessels. The next project was to attack the fortifications at Grand 
Gulf, fifty miles below. An assault by the fleet on this place proved 
futile. A land-force was then carried across the river, which attacked 
and carried Port Gibson and defeated several detachments in the field. 
The successes thus gained rendered Grand Gulf untenable, and it was 
evacuated, and taken possession of by Grant's army. 

It was now early May. Three months had been spent in the oper- 
ations against Vicksburg, and it was still as far from capture as ever. 
Grant's whole army was now in the vicinity of Grand Gulf, and a 
new system of operations was adopted. Cutting loose from all lines 
of communication, he marched out into the open country, determined 



Badeau] the siege OF VICKSBURG. 441 

to subsist his army on the people, defeat all the defenders of Vicks- 
burg in the field, and carry that place by assault from the rear. Gen- 
eral J. E. Johnston commanded the Confederate forces in the field, 
and several engagements ensued, in all of which the Union army was 
successful. The city of Jackson was captured, and Pemberton, who 
marched out from Yicksburg to co-operate with Johnston, was defeated 
and forced to retreat to his intrenchments. Grant rapidly pursued, 
and on the 19th of May took possession of the outer works of the 
Vicksburg lines, definitely shutting the enemy within his fortifica- 
tions. The important post of Haines' Bluff was taken, and communi- 
cation opened with the fleet. 

The campaign had lasted twenty days. In that time Grant had 
marched two hundred miles, beaten two armies in five successive bat- 
tles, captured twenty-seven heavy cannon and sixty-one pieces of field- 
artillery, taken six thousand five hundred prisoners, and killed and 
wounded about six thousand men. He had forced the evacuation of 
Grand Gulf, seized Jackson, the State capital, destroyed thirty miles 
of railroad, and ended by investing the stronghold of Vicksburg. 
Starting with two days' rations, he had subsisted his army on the 
countr\', and reached his goal with a loss in all of four thousand three 
hundred and thirty-five men. 

Taking it for granted that Pemberton's men were in no condition 
for an effective resistance, an assault was immediately made on the 
works, and another on the 22d, both of which were repulsed, the 
Union forces losing heavily. The works proving far too strong, and 
the approaches too difficult, for success by this method, siege-operations 
were determined on, and ground was broken on the 23d of May. Of 
the events which succeeded we select a description of the more in- 
teresting particulars from Badeau 's " Military History of Ulysses S. 
Grant."] 

Grant had now about forty thousand men for duty, and, 
on the 23d, orders were given for the axe and the shovel 
to support the bayonet. The hot season was at hand, the 
troops had already endured many hardships, they were 
almost altogether unprovided with siege-material : so that 
the difficulties before the national army were not only for- 
midable, but peculiar. The engineer organization was espe- 
cially defective : there were no engineer troops in the entire 



442 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Badeau 

command, and only four engineer oflScers, while twenty 
would have found ample opportunity for all their skill. Sev- 
eral pioneer companies of volunteers were, however, used for 
engineering purposes, and, although raw at first, became 
effective before the close of the siege. There were no per- 
manent dej)6ts of siege-material; spades and picks were 
kept at the steamboat-landing on the Yazoo, and in the 
camps near the trenches ; gabions and fascines were made 
as they were needed, by the pioneer companies, or by de- 
tails of troops from the line. Grant's artillery was simply 
that used during the campaign, with the addition of a bat- 
tery of naval guns of larger calibre, loaned him by Admi- 
ral Porter. There was nothing like a siege-train in all 
the "West, no light mortars, and very few siege-howitzers 
nearer than Washington ; and there was not time to send to 
Northern arsenals for supplies. "With such material and 
means the siege of Yicksburg was begun. 

[Camps were made for the men, most of them within six hundred 
yards of the Confederate parapets. Stores were accumulated at the 
landing, and roads and covered ways opened from camp to camp.] 

The first ground was broken on the 23d of May, and 
batteries placed in the most advantageous positions to 
keep down the enemy's fire. Lines of parapet, rifle-trench, 
and covered way were then constructed to connect these 
batteries. The enemy seldom showed his guns, hardly 
attempting, indeed, to prevent the besiegers from getting 
their artillery into position ; for the slightest exposure or 
demonstration on the part of the rebels excited the live- 
liest fire from the national batteries, and the advantage 
was always in favor of the latter, as they could bring to 
bear a much larger number of guns than the enemy. 
This, and the remarkable activity and vigilance of Grant's 
8har])-s hooters, in a great measure kept down the fire of 



Badeau] the siege OF VICKSBURQ. 443 

the besieged. The enemy, however, was undoubtedly scant 
of ammunition, and anxious to husband what he had, for 
more effective use at closer quarters. 

The connecting parapets, as well as all other available 
jjositions within rifle-range, were kept occupied by a line 
of sharp-shooters during daylight, and by trench-guards 
and advanced pickets after dark. Whenever an approach 
gave opportunity, loop-holes were formed, by piling sand- 
bags and pieces of square timber on the parapets, or logs 
and stumps when these were more convenient : the men 
were thus enabled to shelter themselves completely. This 
timber was rarely displaced by the enemy's fire ; but, had 
the rebel artillery opened heavily, splinters must have 
become dangerous to the besiegers. The positions of the 
national sharp-shooters were generally quite as elevated as 
those occupied by the rebels ; and the approaches, running 
along the hill-sides and up the slopes in front of the enemy's 
works, were lower than the besieged, so that the sappers 
and working parties could not be molested by the rebels 
without very great exposure on their own part to sharp- 
shooters of the attacking force. So effective was this sys- 
tem that by the end of the first fortnight nearly all the 
artillery of the enemy was either dismounted or withdrawn, 
and the rebels scarcely ever fired. 

[Pioneers and negroes did the greater part of the work, which was 
mainly left to men ignorant of siege-operations and obliged to depend 
on their native ingenuity. Yet the Yankee fertility of resource stood 
the workers in good stead. Gabions and fascines were made of grape- 
vine and split cane, and moi-tars for close service were made of wooden 
cylinders with iron bands shrunk on them. The parapets were made 
but six or eight feet thick, on account of the feeble nature of the 
enemy's fire, the embrasures being closed, when not firing, by plank 
shutters or movable timbers. The ground was seared by ravines, 
rugged and difiicult, but this condition aided the rapid advance of the 
works.] 



444 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Badeati 

The aa-o-reirate lenc-th of the trenches was twelve miles. 
Eighty-nine batteries were constructed during the siege, 
the guns from those in the rear being moved forward as 
the siege advanced. The troops were moved on at the 
same time, and encamped in the rear of batteries, at the 
heads of ravines. On the 30th of June there were in 
position two hundred and twenty guns, mostly light field- 
pieces; one battery of heavy guns, on the right, was 
manned and officered by the navy. . . . 

"While the investment of Vicksburg was thus proceed- 
ing, the menacing attitude of Johnston had early attracted 
Grant's attention, and made it necessary to establish a 
strong corps of observation in the rear. ... It was soon 
learned that Johnston had been joined by at least ten 
thousand fresh troops ; and Grant was thus made reason- 
ably certain that the rebels would endeavor to raise the 
sieo-e, attacking from the northeast, with all the men they 
could command. . . . On the 26th [of May] Grant sent a 
force of twelve thousand men, under Blair, to drive off a 
, body of the enemy supjDOsed to be collecting between the 
Big Black Eiver and the Yazoo. This command was not 
expected to fight Johnston, but simply to act as a corps of 
observation, and to destroy all forage, stock, roads, and 
bridges as it returned. Blair moved along the Yazoo about 
forty-five miles, and effectually accomplished the purpose 
of his expedition, preventing Johnston from moving upon 
Vicksburg in that direction, and also from drawing sup- 
plies in the fertile region between the two rivers. He was 
absent nearly a week, and reconnoitred the whole region 
thoroughly. 

On the 31st Grant wrote, " It is now certain that John- 
ston has already collected a force from twenty thousand 
to twenty-five thousand strong at Jackson and Canton, 
and is using every effort to increase it to forty thousand. 



Badeaxj] the siege OF VICKSBURG. 445 

With this he will undoubtedly attack Haines' Bluff and 
compel me to abandon the investment of the city, if not 
reinforced before he can get here." Admiral Porter was 
accordingly requested to direct a brigade of amphibious 
and useful troops at his disposal, known as the Marine 
Brigade, to debark at Haines' Bluff and hold the place 
until relieved by other forces. . . . On the 7th [of June] 
the enemy, nearly three thousand strong, attacked Milli- 
ken's Bend, which, however, was successfully defended by 
black and white troops under Brigadier-General Dennis, 
ably assisted by the gunboats Choctaw and Lexington. . . . 
On the 8th of June another division of troops, under 
Brigadier-General Sooy Smith, arrived from Memphis, and 
was ordered to Haines' Bluff, where Washburne was now 
placed in command. This place had again become of vital 
importance; for if the national forces should be compelled 
to raise the siege, and yet remain in possession of Haines' 
Bluff, with undisputed control of the Mississippi Eiver, 
they could still concentrate resources for a new effort, 
either against the city itself or its means of supply. 

[This bluff lies on the Yazoo, northeast of Vicksburg. It is very 
precipitous, and commands the approach to Vicltsburg from the north. 
Below this river the bluffs border a broad alluvial space, cut by numer- 
ous streams, until they touch the Mississippi at Vicksburg, twelve 
miles below. Johnston, as soon as he learned that Pemberton had 
been driven into Vicksburg and lost his_ hold on this commanding 
point, had ordered him to evacuate the city, as no longer tenable, and 
thus save his troops. Pemberton declined to do this, until the exten- 
sion of Grant's lines from river to river around the city rendered it 
impossible. Haines' Bluff was now ordered to be strongly fortifled 
and obstinately held. Eeinforcements continued to arrive until Grant's 
force amounted to seventy-five thousand men.] 

On the 21st of June, Grant received curious information 
through the rebel pickets : the national works had now 
II. 38 



446 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Badeau 

approached so close to those of the besieged that the two 
picket-lines were within hail of each other; and one of 
the rebels made an agreement with a national sentinel 
that they should lay down their arms and have a talk. 
The rebel declared that Grant's cannonading had killed 
and wounded a great many in the rifle-pits; that the be- 
sieged had fully expected another assault, and been pre- 
pared to meet it; but, as no assault was made, the troops 
had been canvassed by their oflicers, to see if they could 
not be got outside to attack the " Yankees." Not only 
was this declined, but many were ready to mutiny because 
their officers would not surrender. The men, however, 
were reassured, and told that provisions enough remained 
to last them seven days more : in that time two thousand 
boats would be built, and the besieged could escape by 
crossing the Mississipj^i River. The rebel finished by an- 
nouncing that houses in Vicksburg were now being torn 
down to get material for the boats. 

This singular story excited attention, and preparations 
were made to render abortive any such attempt at escape 
as had been described. Admiral Porter was warned, the 
pickets were redoubled at night, and material was collected 
to light up the river should a large number of boats at- 
tempt to cross. Batteries also were got ready behind the 
levee on the western bank ; but the attempt was never 
made. 

[On the 22d information was received that Johnston was crossing 
the Big Black Kiver, with the intention to march upon Grant. Sher- 
man was sent out with a strong force to confront him.] 

A line of works was now constructed from the Yazoo 
to the Big Black River, quite as strong as those which de- 
fended Yicksburg, so that the city was not only circum- 
vallated, but countervallated as well. In case of an attack. 



Badeau] the siege OF VICKSBURG. 4'47 

Johnston would have been obhged to assault Grant's rear, 
under the same disadvantages that Grant himself had en- 
countered in attacking Yicksburg. Grant's position, how- 
ever, was at this time peculiar, if not precarious. He was 
again between two large rebel armies : besieging one, ho 
was himself threatened with a siege by the other ; while, 
if both combined to assault him from different sides, it 
seemed quite possible that the garrison of Yicksburg, that 
splendid prize for which he had been so long struggling, 
might even yet elude his grasp. He might be compelled 
to throw so much strength on his eastern front that the 
besieged could succeed in effecting their escape by some 
opposite and comparatively unguarded avenue. To pre- 
vent this contingency was the object of unceasing vigi- 
lance. It would not do to go out after Johnston, lest the 
prey inside should evade the toils that had been spread so 
carefully; and yet, while Grant remained in his trenches 
enveloping the city, his own communications and base 
were threatened from outside. Haines' Bluff was once 
more an object of immense solicitude, and the Big Black 
had again become the line of defence ; but this time it was 
a defence to national troops against the rebels ; for Grant 
now, in part, faced east, and the men of the South were 
striving to fight their way to the Mississippi. 

[Johnston had written to Pemberton on May 29 that he was too 
weak to save him without co-operation on his part. On June 14 he 
wrote him, " By fighting the enemy simultaneously at the same points 
of his line, you may be extricated : our joint forces cannot raise the 
siege of Yicksburg."] 

The garrison, -meanwhile, was suffering for supplies. 
Pemberton was particularly^ short of percussion-caps, and 
his scouts contrived, occasionally, to elude the pickets of 
Grant and transmit this information to Johnston. Sup- 
plies, in consequence, were sent as far as Grant's lines, but 



448 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Badeau 

were generally captured ; in several instances, however, 
caps were successfully conveyed to the besieged, sometimes 
two hundred thousand at a time, canteens full of caps 
being carried by rebel scouts in the national uniform and 
suddenly thrown across the picket-line. After the assaults 
in May, the ammunition scattered in the trenches was col- 
lected by the rebels, and even the cartridge-boxes of the 
dead, in front of the works, were emptied. 

The meat-ration was reduced by Pemberton at first to 
one-half, but that of sugar, rice, and beans, at the same 
time, largely increased. Tobacco for chewing was im- 
pressed, and issued to the troops. After a while, all the 
cattle in Yicksburg was impressed, and the chief com- 
missary was instructed to sell only one ration a day to 
any officer. At last four ounces of rice and four of flour 
were issued for bread, — not half a ration. Still, on the 
10th of June, Pemberton sent word to Johnston, " I shall 
endeavor to hold out as long as we have anything to eat. 
Can you not send rae a verbal message by carrier, crossing 
the river above or below Yicksburg, and swimming across 
again, opposite Yicksburg? I have heard nothing of you 
or from you since the 25th of May." In the same despatch 
he said, '• Enemy bombard night and day from seven mor- 
tars. He also keeps up constant fire on our lines with 
artillery and musketry." On the 15th, " We are living on 
greatly-reduced rations, but I think sufficient for twenty 
days yet." . . . 

The price of food in the town had by this time risen 
enormously. Flour was five dollars a pound, or a thousand 
dollars a barrel (rebel money) ; meal was 'one hundred and 
forty dollars a bushel ; molasses, ten and twelve dollars a 
gallon; and beef (very often oxen killed by the national 
shells and picked up by the butchers) was sold at two dol- 
lars and two dollars and a half by the pound. Mule-meat 



Badeau] the siege of VICKSBURG. 449 

sold at a dollar a pound, and was in great demand. Many 
families of wealth had eaten the last mouthful of food they 
possessed, and the poorer class of non-combatants was on 
the verge of starvation. There was scarcely a building 
that had not been struck by shells, and many were entirely 
demolished. A number of women and children had been 
killed or wounded by mortar-shells, or balls; and all who 
did not remain in the damp caves of the hill-sides were in 
danger. Even the hospitals where the wounded lay were 
sometimes struck, for it was found impossible to prevent 
occasional shells falling on the buildings, which of course 
would have been sacred from an intentional fire. 

Fodder was exhausted, and the horses were compelled 
to subsist wholly on corn-tops, the corn being all ground 
into meal for the soldiers. In the conversations that 
nightly occurred between the pickets, the rebels were 
always threatened with starvation, even if another assault 
should fail. For the pickets of both armies were good- 
natured enough, and often sat down on the ground to- 
gether, bragging of their ability to whip each other. . . . 
Incidents like these relieved the tedium of the siege to 
those outside, and lessened some of its horrors for the 
rebels. A favorite place for the meetings was at a well 
attached to a house between the lines : hither, after dark, 
the men from both sides repaired, slipping outside their 
pickets in search of the delicious draught ; for water was 
scarce, and at this point there was none other within a 
mile. The house was unoccupied, having been riddled 
with shot from both besiegers and besieged, and over the 
broken cistern the rebel and national soldiers held their 
tacit truce, a truce which neither ever violated. 

[Mining and countermining were now attempted. Grant fired a 
heavy mine on the 2oth of June. It made a deep crater, into which 
the troops rushed. But the Confederates had suspected the intention, 
\i.—dd 38* 



450 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Badeau 

and withdrawn to an inner line, and no important advantage was 
gained. On July 1 another mine was sprung. This blew up an en- 
tire redan, and injured the inner Confederate works. No assault, how- 
ever, was made, the last having proved so ineffective.] 

A continuous siege, and a mighty battle imminent. A 
citadel surrounded by land and water. The bombardment 
almost incessant. The beleaguered garrison reduced to 
quarter rations ; living on mule-meat, and thinking it good 
fare. The population of the town hiding in caves to 
escape the storm of mortar-shells exploding in their streets. 
A squadron thundering at their gates, by night as well as 
by day. Mines trembling beneath their feet. What rare 
news came from Johnston far from cheering ; all hope 
indeed of succor quite cut off. Ammunition almost ex- 
pended. The lines of the besieger contracting daily ; his ap- 
proaches getting closer, his sharp-shooters more accurate ; 
his sap-rollers steadily rising over the hills that Vicksburg 
had proudly declared impassable. Every day some new 
battery opening from an unexpected quarter; everyday 
the position detected from which to-morrow still another 
battery would surely begin its fire. To crown all, after a 
few more contractions of the coil, another mighty assault 
would bring the enemy immediately beneath the walls, 
when, covered by their works, and more numerous than 
the besieged, the assailants, in every human probability, 
would storm the town, and all the unutterable horrors to 
which fallen cities ai'e exposed might come upon the 
devoted fortress. . . . 

By the 1st of July the approaches in many places had 
reached the enemy's ditch. At ten different points Grant 
could put the heads of regiments under cover, within dis- 
tances of from five to one hundred yards of the rebel works, 
and the men of the two armies conversed across the lines. 
The hand-to-hand character of the recent fighting showed 



Badeatj] the siege OF VICKSBURG. 451 

that little further progress could be made by digging alone, 
and Grant accordingly determined to make the final assault 
on the morning of the 6 th of July. Orders were issued 
to prepare the heads of approaches for the easy debouche 
of troops, to widen the main approaches so that the men 
could move easily by fours, and to prepare planks and 
sand-bags filled with pressed cotton, for crossing ditches. 

Johnston was moving up at the same time. On the 
night of the 1st he encamped between Brownsville and 
the Big Black Eiver, and on the 3d sent word to Pember- 
ton that about the 7th of the month an attempt to create 
a diversion would be made, to enable the garrison to cut 
its wa}" out. This attack, however, was never made. The 
movement to Brownsville was the last operation under- 
taken for the relief or the defence of Vicksburg. 

[On the morning of July 3, Pemberton wrote to Grant, proposing 
an armistice, in order to arrange terms for the capitulation of the city. 
Grant replied that " the useless effusion of blood you propose stopping 
by this course can be ended at any time you may choose, by the uncon- 
ditional surrender of the city and garrison." After some further de- 
bate, in which Pemberton protested against the stringency of these 
terms, and desired that his men should be permitted to march out with 
their muskets and field-guns, he agreed to Grant's proposal, the latter 
promising to parole his prisoners. Ten o'clock on the morning of the 
4th of July was fixed as the hour of the surrender. Sherman was 
directed to march against Johnston the moment the surrender should 
be consummated.] 

At ten o'clock of Saturday, the 4th of July, the anni- 
versary of American independence, the garrison of Yicks- 
burg marched out of the lines it had defended so long, 
and stacked its arms in front of the conquerors. All along 
the rebel works they poured out, in gray, through the 
sally-ports and across the ditches, and laid down their 
colors, sometimes on the very spot where so many of the 



452 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Vak Horne 

besiegers had laid down their lives ; and then, in sight of 
the national troops, who were standing on their own para- 
pets, the rebels returned .inside the works, prisoners of 
war. Thirty-one thousand six hundred men were surren- 
dered to Grant. Among these were two thousand one 
hundred and fifty-three officers, of whom fifteen were gen- 
erals. One hundred and seventy-two cannon also fell into 
his hands, the largest capture of men and material ever made, 
in war. 

[On the Sth of July, as soon as the news of the surrender of Vicks 
burg had reached the defenders of Port Hudson, that place surrendered 
to Banks, and the Mississippi, from its source to the sea, became once 
more a highway of the United States of America.] 



LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN AND MISSIONARY RIDGE. 

THOMAS B. VAN HORNE. 

[After the fall of Vicksburg the centre of military operations was 
shifted to Chattanooga, which became the scene of the most peculiar 
and dramatically interesting conflict of the war. Before describing 
this "battle above the clouds," a review of the events succeeding the 
battle of Murfreesborough is necessary. After that conflict no active 
measures were taken for six months, Kosecrans awaiting the reduction 
of Vicksburg. He moved at length, on the 16th of June, with an 
army of sixty thousand men. Bragg had forty-six thousand, who 
were strongly intrenched at TuUahoma and points in its vicinity, guard- 
ing the railroad from Nashville to Chattanooga. Eosecrans made a 
flank movement on this army, threatening to turn its right, upon which 
Bragg hastily abandoned his intrenchments and fell back to Bridge- 
port, Alabama. A nine days' march, over roads rendered almost im- 
passable by excessive rains, had gained this important advantage. 
Bragg continued his retreat to Chattanooga, destroying the railroad as 



VanHorne] lookout mountain. 453 

he went. He lost six thousand men, mainly by desertion and strag- 
gling. Kosecrans followed, rebuilding the railroad as he advanced, 
and on August 16 began to cross the Cumberland Mountains. Two 
other events of importance accompanied these. On June 27, John H. 
Morgan was sent North on a cavalry raid. He crossed the Ohio intc 
Indiana, rode through this State and Ohio, and circled around Cincin- 
nati, doing great damage along his route. He was unable to recross 
the river, however, and was obliged to surrender, with his men, on 
July 26. The other event was the expedition of Burnside to East 
Tennessee. This general, then in command of the Department of the 
Ohio, with twenty thousand men, marched towards Knoxville on 
August 16. After a very difficult journey over the Cumberland 
Mountains, he reached Knoxville on September 9, and compelled it to 
surrender. This gave him control of East Tennessee, and completed 
the conquest of that State. Buckner, who was at Knoxville with ten 
thousand men, marched to reinforce Bragg. 

Before describing the subsequent events, the situation of Chattanooga 
needs to be outlined. At this point are several parallel ranges of the 
Appalachian mountain-system, with intermediate valleys, in one of 
which the town is situated, on the south bank of the Tennessee Eiver. 
Southwestwardly from the town run several ranges, known, from west 
to east, as Raccoon Mountain, Lookout Mountain, Missionary Ridge, 
Pigeon Mountain, and Chickamauga Hills. The town lies in the 
mouth of the valley between Lookout Mountain and Missionary 
Ridge. The former is a lofty and rugged elevation, about two thou- 
sand four hundred feet high, ending abruptly near the town. 

Rosecrans again made a flank movement, crossing the ridges to the 
south of Chattanooga, and occupying the several valleys. On the 20th 
of August his left wing reached the north bank of the Tennessee, from 
which he shelled Chattanooga on the 21st. Bragg, finding that his 
communications were threatened by the advance of Thomas and 
McCook into the mountain-gaps, abandoned Chattanooga on Septem- 
ber 8, and moved southward. He had no intention of definitely re- 
treating, however. He had been heavily reinforced, and concentrated 
his army at Lafayette, while the three corps of Rosecrans's army were 
widely separated by mountain-ridges. Had Bragg assumed the oflfen- 
sive when he first wished to, a serious Union disaster might have re- 
sulted. But he was delayed by the insubordination of his officers, and 
meanwhile Rosecrans, realizing the true situation, began to concen- 
trate his army. Before this was fully accomplished Bragg fell upon 



454 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Van Hornk 

him with his whole force. The advance of a strong reinforcement, 
under Longstreet, reached him from Virginia on the 18th. On the 
morning of the 19th the two armies stood face to face, and the battle 
of Chickamauga began with a vigorous Confederate assault. The 
battle continued during the day, and ended indecisively, neither side 
having lost ground. During the night the remainder of Longstreet's 
men came up. 

The assault was renewed on the morning of the 20th, Kosecrans 
having in the mean time covered his front with breastworks. It con- 
tinued till mid-day without decisive result. Shortly afterwards, how- 
ever, by an unfortunate misapprehension of orders, a gap was opened 
in the Union lines, of which the Confederates took instant advantage, 
pushing into the opening and rolling back the broken flanks. The 
charge was urged by Longstreet's men with such fierce energy that 
the error could not be rectified. The centre and right were broken and 
dispersed, and driven back in rout towards Chattanooga. A terrible 
defeat would have supervened but for the gallant behavior of the left 
wing, under Thomas. Sheridan managed to join him with a portion 
of his division, and with less than half the original army he held 
his ground unflinchingly against the whole Confederate force until 
darkness put a close to the contest, — after which he retired in good 
order to Kossville. On the 21st he offered battle again, and that night 
withdrew into the defences of Chattanooga. Bragg had won a victory, 
but had not recovered the town. His loss was about eighteen thousand 
men. Rosecrans lost about sixteen thousand three hundred and fifty 
men, and fifty-one guns. On the 24th, Bragg advanced on Chattanooga, 
expecting to take it easily. He found it too strongly defended, how- 
ever, for any hope of success in an assault, and during a considerable 
period no further hostilities occurred. 

The most vigorous preparations were now made for the attack and 
defence of this important post, which had become the centre of opera- 
tions for the Western armies. Bragg began a siege of the town that 
threatened to reduce it by starvation. He seized the passes of Look- 
out Mountain, destroyed the railroad-bridge at Bridgeport, and thus 
broke the railroad-communication with Nashville. The supply-trains 
of Eosecrans's army were obliged to make their way over a difficult 
ridge by steep and rough roads, since Bragg commanded all the low 
grounds along the Tennessee. In October heavy rains fell. The roads 
became almost impassable. The Confederate cavalry attacked the 
trains. In one day they destroyed three hundred wagons and killed 



Van Horne] LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. 455 

or captured eighteen hundred mules. As one soldier said, " The mud 
was so deep that we could not travel by the road, but we got along 
pretty well by stepping from mule to mule as they lay dead by the 
way." Starvation threatened the camp. The army must be relieved 
or must retreat, and a retreat might have ended in a great disaster. 

Vigorous measures were now taken. Grant was made commander 
of the Western armies. He had about eighty thousand men, in ad- 
dition to Burnside's force; Bragg, about sixty thousand. Sherman 
was directed to march from Vicksburg to Chattanooga, his troops being 
tirst transported by steamboat to Memphis. He left Memphis on Oc- 
tober 2, repairing the railroads as he went. It was also determined to 
reinforce Eosecrans from the Army of the Potomac, and two corps, 
numbering twenty-three thousand men, under Hooker, were trans- 
ported, with their artillery, baggage, and animals, from the Rapidan in 
Virginia to Stevenson in Alabama, a distance of eleven hundred and 
ninety-two miles, in seven days ; an unprecedented performance. 

Grant telegraphed to Thomas, then in command at Chattanooga, to 
hold the place at all hazards. " I will do so till we starve," was the 
answer. Grant reached the town on October 21, and found that all 
the heights surrounding it were in the hands of the enemy, who con- 
trolled both the river and the railroad. Ten thousand animals had 
perished by famine. The roads must be opened, or the army must re- 
treat, and that meant destruction, as they would have had to march 
without supplies. "Within a few days, however, the state of affairs re- 
markably changed. A secret expedition drove the enemy from the 
range of hills which commanded the river road. Immediately after- 
wards Hooker reached the same point and strongly guarded it. Good 
roads for supplies were now secured, and the problem of holding Chat- 
tanooga was solved. Bragg had lost his advantage by a surprise. He 
sought to recover it by a night assault on Geary's command at "Wau- 
hatchie, but was repulsed with great loss. 

A new Confederate scheme was now devised, which fatally weak- 
ened Bragg's army. Longstreet was sent with fifteen thousand men 
to attack Burnside at Knoxville. Sherman's men arrived late in No- 
vember, and an assault on Bragg's position was arranged for the 24th. 
Meanwhile, Bragg was so confident of the strength of his position 
that he sent a division to reinforce Longstreet. A second division had 
started, but was recalled when Grant's attack began. From Van 
Home's " Army of the Cumberland" we select a description of the 
remarkable action that succeeded.] 



456 AMERICAN' HISTORY. [Van Hornk 

The Confederate leaders and the army commanders 
were sanguine of the success of the siege of Chattanooga 
up to the very moment of its failure. General Bragg had, 
for a time, just ground for sanguine expectations, as the 
elements were his allies. At the time of greatest promise, 
the oracular Confederate President appeared on Lookout 
Mountain, and from " Pulpit Eock," as he looked down 
exultingly upon the beleaguered army, predicted its total 
ruin. But the loss of Lookout Valley, the river, and the 
direct roads to Bridgeport virtually threw Bragg upon the 
defensive. It is true that he maintained his lines on 
Lookout Mountain and Missionaiy Eidge, and through the 
intervening valley, in semblance of besieging effort, until 
the army with which he had so often battled leaped from 
its intrenchments and hurled him and his oft-defeated 
army from their lofty battlements. But he made no 
movement of actual offence against Chattanooga during 
the time the Army of the Cumberland was preparing to 
assume the boldest aggression. . . . 

The town is surrounded with almost all the types of 
the grand and beautiful in nature. Mountains far and 
near, rising from water and plain, sharply defined by low 
valleys and the river curving at their feet; subordinate 
hills with rounded summits and undulating slopes, and 
broad plains delicately pencilled here and there by wind- 
ing creeks and rivulets, are the prominent features of na- 
ture's amphitheatre, in the centre of which is Chattanooga. 

Looking to the southwest. Lookout Mountain, with bold 
front and craggy crest, is seen rising abruptly from the 
river and the valleys on either side ; to the west, Eaccoon 
Mountain appears, trending from its river-front far to the 
southwest, parallel with Lookout ; to the north, Waldron's 
Eidge forms the sky-line far to right and left ; to the east, 
Missionary Eidge, with indented summit, more humbly 



Van Horne] LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. 457 

takes position, hiding the lofty ranges far beyond ; to 
the south, the east, and to the northeast, stretches the 
plain where the armies were marshalled for the assault 
of Bragg's army on Missionary Eidge ; and to the south- 
west, twice across the river, lies the valley from which 
Hooker crept slyly up the mountain-steeps, covered with 
trees and shrubs, standing and fallen, and with huge 
fragments of stone, which during the ages have dropped 
from the ledges overhanging the crest, to give battle on a 
field suited to the stealthy belligerence of the Indian, but 
adverse in every phase to the repetition of all the prece- 
dents of modern warfare. But this battle-field defies de- 
scription, and he who would fully appreciate either battle 
or field must read the story of the one as he looks down 
from Lookout Mountain upon the magnificence of the 
other. 

[On November 7, Grant had ordered General Thomas to attack the 
north end of Missionary Eidge, but this order was recalled, as the 
army was not ready for battle. Later in the month Sherman reached 
the town, and on the 23d an assault was made on Orchard Knob, an 
isolated hill between the town and the ridge. This movement was 
intended as a reconnoissance, but unexpectedly the hill was carried 
and a highly-important advantage gained. On the 24th, General 
Hooker, who was in position for an assault upon Lookout Mountain, 
moved upon this seemingly impregnable height.] 

On the front of Lookout Mountain, intermediate be- 
tween base and summit, there is a wide open space, culti- 
vated as a farm, in vivid contrast with the natural sur- 
roundings of wildest tj^pes. The farm-house, known a» 
Craven's or "the white house," was situated upon the 
upper margin of the farm. From the house to the founda- 
tion of the perpendicular cliff or pahsade which crops out 
from the rock-ribbed frame of the mountain, the ascent is 
exceedingly steep and thickly wooded. Below the farm 
ii.-u 39 



458 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Van Horne 

the surface is rough and craggy. The base of the moun- 
tain, next the river, has a perpendicular front of solid 
rock, rising grandly from the railroad-track, which, though 
in part cut through the deep ledges, does not perceptibly 
mar nature's magnificent architecture. Over the top of 
this foundation-front the narrow road passes, which in the 
western valley throws off various branches, leading west 
and south. East and west from Craven's farm the surface 
is broken by furrows and covered with shrubs, trees, and 
fragments of stone. On the open space the enemy had 
constructed his defences, consisting of intrenchments, pits, 
and redoubts, which, extending over the front of the 
mountain, bade defiance to a foe advancing from the river. 
At the extremities of the main intrenchments there were 
rifle-pits, epaulements for batteries, barricades of stone 
and abatis, looking to resistance against aggression from 
Chattanooga or Lookout Valley. The road from Chat- 
tanooga to Summertown, an elegant village for summer 
resort, winding up the eastern side of the mountain, is 
the only one practicable for ordinary military movements 
within a range of many miles. So that, except by this 
road, there could be no transfer of troops from the sum- 
mit to the northern slope, or to the valle}", east or west, 
to meet the emergencies of battle, and this road was too 
long to allow provision from the top for sudden contin 
gencies below. 

At 8 A.M. Geary crossed the creek, captured the pickets 
of the enemy, and then crept up the mountain-side until 
his right, which was his front in the ascent, touched the 
base of the palisaded summit. The fog which overhung 
the mountain-top and upper steeps, and the dense woods, 
concealed the movement. Then, with his right clinging 
to the palisades, he swept round toward the mountain's 
front. Simultaneously with Geary's first movement, Grose 



Van Horne] LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. 459 

attacked the enemy at the bridge, and, having driven him 
back, commenced its repair. The noise of this conflict 
called the enemy's nearest forces from their camps. They 
formed in front of their intrenchments and rifle-pits ; and 
one detachment advanced to the railroad-embankment, 
which formed a good parapet and admitted a sweeping 
fire upon the national troops advancing from the bridge. 
To avoid the loss of life inevitable in a direct advance, 
General Hooker directed Osterhaus, now commanding his 
division, to send a brigade to prepare a crossing a half 
mile farther up the creek, under cover of the woods. A 
portion of G-rose's brigade having been left at the bridge 
to attract the attention of the enemy, the remainder fol- 
lowed Woods' brigade to assist in the construction of the 
bridge. In the mean time, additional artillery had been 
posted, which, with the batteries first planted on the hills 
Avest of the creek, enfiladed all the proximate positions of 
the enemy. A section of twenty-pounder Parrotts had 
also the range of the enemy's camp on the mountain-side; 
and on Moccasin Point, I^rannan's guns were in position 
to open a direct fire upon the front of the mountain. 

At 11 A.M. Woods completed the bridge, and soon after 
Geary's division and Whittaker's brigade, in line, sweeping 
the mountain from base to palisade, came abreast. The 
batteries then opened fire, and AYoods and Grose crossed 
the creek and aligned their troops on Geary's left as it 
swept down the valley. The troops of the enemy, in the 
first positions, that escajDed the artillery fire, ran into the 
infantrj^ lines, so that quick overthrow occurred to all the 
troops that had taken position in the valley and near the 
western base of the mountain. Many were killed, more 
were wounded, and the remainder were captured, and then 
the line moved onward toward the mountain's front. 

The booming of the heavy guns, with interludes of light 



460 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Van Horxe 

artillery and musketry fii*e, anuounced to friend and foe 
in the distant lines that an action was in progress where 
battle had not been expected. Quietness reigning through- 
out the other hills and valleys compassed by the long lines 
of the contending armies, the contest on the mountain-side, 
revealed by its noise, but as yet hidden from sight, com- 
manded the profoundest attention and interest of far more 
than one hundred thousand men. Those not held by duty 
or the constraint of orders, in crowds sought the elevated 
lookouts, and, with glasses and strained vision, turned their 
gaze to the woods, fog, and battle-smoke which concealed 
the anomalous contest. As the increasing roar of mus- 
ketry indicated the sweep of the battle to the east, the 
anxiety for its revelation on the open ground became in- 
tense. Soon through the clefts of the fog could be seen 
the routed enemy in rapid motion, followed by Hooker's 
line, with its right under the palisade and its continuity 
lost to view fiir down the mountain. Whittaker held the 
right, under the cliffs, and below were the brigades of 
Cobham, Ireland, and Creightoh ; and this line hurled the 
enemy from position after position, climbing over crags 
and boulders for attack and pursuit, and reached at noon 
the point where orders required a halt for readjustment 
of lines and a more cautious aj)proach toward the Summer- 
town road. But as on the following day, in the assault 
made by other portions of the Army of the Cumberland, 
the restraint of orders did not arrest the pursuit of the 
flying foe, so now these victorious troops swept on. "With 
a plunging fire from above and behind they rolled up the 
enemy's line, and, lifting it from its intrench men ts, made 
no halt until the middle of the open ground was gained. 
Here the enemy met reinforcements and made a more de- 
termined stand. Soon, howevei', Grose's brigade of Cruft's 
division, and Osterhaus' command, having gathered up the 



^^AN Horne] lookout mountain. 46] 

captured on the lower ground, closed on the left, and then 
the enemy was driven from all his defences on the open 
ground, and with broken ranks retreated down the eastern 
descent of the mountain. 

The heavy Parrotts and the Tenth and Eighteenth Ohio 
batteries, under Captain Naylor, on Moccasin Point, ren- 
dered important aid to the assaulting forces, by prevent- 
ing the concentration of the enemy's troops. But the 
potent cause of the victoiy was the fact that brave men 
reached the flank and rear of the enemy's defences. 

The heavy fighting ceased at 2 p.m. General Hooker's 
troops had exhausted their ammunition, and it could not 
be supplied in the ordinary way, as no trains could reach 
them. Besides this want of ammunition, as a bar to fur- 
ther fighting, the fog which had overhung the mountain 
during the day settled down densely over the enemy. 
But for these obstacles, and the fact that the enemy could 
now concentrate heavily to prevent the insulation of his 
troops on the mountain-top, an effort would have been 
made to seize the Summertown road. Hooker, therefore, 
waited for ammunition and reinforcements. At 5 p.m. 
Carlin's brigade of the First Division of the Fourteenth 
Corps crossed the Chattanooga Creek, near its mouth, and 
ascended the mountain to Hookei*'s right. The troops of 
this brigade carried on their persons ammunition for 
Hooker's skirmishers, in addition to the ordinary supply 
for themselves. Severe skirmishing was then maintained 
until nearly midnight. 

[On the24:tla, General Sherman occupied the two northernmost sum- 
mits of Missionary Eidge, which had been abandoned by the enemy. 
Between this point and Bragg's lines was a deep depression, which 
must be crossed before the Confederate lines could be reached. The 
battle of the 25th began early in the day, but, though persistent fight- 
ing continued till nearly evening, no important progress was made. 
II. 39* 



462 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Van Hornb 

General Hooker had been directed, early in the day, to move against 
Bragg's left, across the valley between the two ridges. General 
Thomas, who had been held to move in co-operation with Sherman, 
was ordered to make an independent attack upon the enemy's, centre. 
Four divisions were in line, in readiness for this assault, but night was 
near at hand when the order came.] 

Between 3 and 4 p.m. six successive cannon-shots from 
the battery on Orchard Knob gave the signal for the ad- 
vance. General Grant's order required that the enemy 
should be dislodged from the rifle-pits and intrenchments 
at the base of Missionary Ridge. The statement is made 
in his official report that it was his design that the lines 
should be readjusted at the base for the assault of the 
summit ; but no such instructions were given to corps or 
division generals. Neither does it appear from his report 
Avhether he meditated an independent assault of the sum- 
mit from his centre, or one co-operative with Sherman on 
the left, or Hooker on the right, as the original plan pre- 
scribed for the former or as the issues of the daj^ suggested 
for the latter. 

As soon as the magnificent lines moved forward, the 
batteries of the enemy on the ridge opened upon them 
with great activity. General Brannan's large guns in 
Fort Wood, Fort Cheatham, Battery Eousseau, and Fort 
Sheridan, and four light batteries on the intermediate 
hills, which had not been silent hitherto, gave emphatic 
response. Their fire was first directed to the enemy's in- 
ferior intrenchments, and when this endangered the ad- 
vancing lines their missiles were thrown upon the summit. 
This change of direction was soon necessary, as, leaping 
forward at the signal, the eager troops in rapid movement 
first met the enemy's pickets and their reserves, then his 
troops occupying the intervening woods, and finally his 
strono;er line in his lower intrenchments, and drove all in 



Van Horxe] LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. 463 

confusion to the crest of the ridge. In vain had General 
Bragg made effort to strengthen his lower line. The ad- 
vance of the national troops had been so rapid, and their 
movement had expressed such purpose and power, that 
the verj' forces that had so often repeated their furious 
assaults at Chickamauga lost courage and made no sol- 
dierly effort to maintain their position, though supported 
by at least fifty guns, which, at short range, were fast 
decimating the assaulting columns. 

Having executed their orders to the utmost requirement, 
holding the enemy's lower defences, the four divisions 
stood under his batteries, while the troops they had routed 
threw themselves behind the stronger intrenchments on 
the summit. General Bragg's right flank had not been 
turned, as first proposed, and General Hooker's attack on 
his left, though successful, was too remote to affect imme- 
diately the central contest. To stand still was death ; to 
fall back was not compassed by orders, and was forbidden 
by every impulse of the brave men who, with no strag- 
glers to mar the sj^mmetry of their line or make scarcely 
a single exception to universal gallantry, had moved so 
boldly and so successfully upon the foe. There are occa- 
sional moments in battle when brave men do not need 
commanders, and this was one. The enemy held a position 
of wonderful strength several hundred feet above them. 
He had two lines in one behind earthworks, where nature 
had provided a fortress. These men, however, did not 
stop to consider the enemy's position or strength, but, from 
a common impulse of patriotism and the inspiration of 
partial success, leaped forward and dashed up the hill. 
The color-bearers sprang to the front, and as one fell an- 
other bore the flag aloft and onward, followed by their 
gallant comrades, not in line, but in such masses as enabled 
them to avail themselves of easier ascent or partial cover. 



464 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Van Horne 

They advanced without firing, though receiving a most 
destructive fire of artillery and musketry, from base to 
summit. The officers of all grades caught the spirit of 
the men, and so eager were men and officers throughout 
the line that the crest was reached and carried at six dif- 
ferent points almost at the same moment. The enemy 
was hurled from position with wonderful quickness; his 
artillerj' was captured, and in some cases turned against 
him as he fled. General Hooker soon swept northward 
from Eossville, and then the Army of the Cumberland held 
Missionary Eidge the whole length of its front. G-eneral 
Hardee's forces, opposite General Sherman, alone main- 
tained position. 

To this general result each of the four central divisions 
and those with General Hooker contributed, in co-ordina- 
tion and harmony unprecedented in an improvised attack. 
Each one was successful, though each was not equally 
prominent in success. From General Bragg's declaration 
that his line was first pierced on his right, — that is, to the 
north of the house which he occupied as his head-quarters, 
— and from the observation of those occupying elevated 
positions, there is no room to doubt that General Woods' 
division first reached the summit. Sheridan's and Baird's, 
on the right and left, almost simultaneously gained the 
crest. General Woods' troops enfiUided the enemy's line 
to the right and left as soon as they broke through it, and 
the other divisions pressed against other points so quickly 
that General Bragg's effort to dislodge the troops who first 
gained his intrenchments, by sending General Bate to the 
right, miscarried at its very inception. After portions of 
the several divisions had gained the crest, many isolated 
contests were conducted with spirit by the enemy, but the 
fi'agments of his line were speedily brushed away. 

The impulse to carry the summit of the ridge was 



Yan Horne] lookout MOUNTAIN. 465 

seemingly spontaneous, though not entirely simultaneous, 
throughout the four divisions, and from different points 
several brigades passed beyond the limit fixed by General 
Grant's order before there was any concerted action toward 
a general assault. The division commanders did not arrest 
their troops, and for a time the corps generals did not give 
official sanction to their advance. The impression, indeed, 
so far prevailed that the movement would not be author- 
ized, that Turchin's brigade, on the right of Baird's division, 
was halted when far up the ascent, and "Wagner's brigade, 
on the left of Sheridan's division, was recalled from an 
advanced position by a staff-officer who was returning to 
General Sheridan from General Granger with the infor- 
mation that General Grant's order required onl}^ that the 
enemy's intrenched line at the base of the ridge should be 
carried. Soon, however, it was apparent to all that the 
eagerness of the troops had created a necessity superior 
to the limitations of orders, and this conviction gave unity 
and energy to an assault whose transcendent issue justi- 
fied its otherwise unauthorized execution. 

To prevent defeat. Generals Bragg, Hardee, Breckinridge, 
and others of inferior rank exerted themselves to the 
utmost. General Bragg, in the centre, was nearly sur- 
rounded before he entirely despaired and abandoned the 
field. General Breckinridge resisted General Hooker as 
he ascended the ridge at Eossville, availing himself of the 
fortifications which had been constructed by the national 
army after the battle of Chickamauga. His first resist- 
ance was quickly overcome by the Ninth and Thirty-Sixth 
Regiments of Grose's bri<j;ade. General Cruft's division 
was then formed in four lines on the summit, and, with 
the lateral divisions abreast, moved rapidly forward, 
driving the enemy in turn from several positions. Many 
of his troops, that fled east or west, were captured by 



466 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Yan Horne 

Osterhaus or Geary, and those who tried to escape north- 
ward fell into Johnson's hands. As soon as General Har- 
dee heard the noise of battle to his left, he hastened to 
join his troops under General Anderson, on the right of 
their central line. But before he could cross the chasm 
corresponding to the interval between General Sherman's 
right and General Thomas' left, Anderson's command was 
thrown into a confused retreat. He then hurried Cheat- 
ham's division from the vicinity of the tunnel, and formed 
it across the summit to resist Baird's division, which had 
advanced northward, after carrying its entire front, in the 
assault. In a severe contest, in which Colonel Phelps, a 
brigade commander, fell, General Baird pressed this fresh 
division northward from several knolls, but was finally 
compelled to abandon the conflict by the peculiar strength 
of a new position and the approach of darkness. 

The victory was gained too late in the day for a general 
pursuit. General Sheridan's division and Willich's brigade 
of General Woods' division pursued the enemy for a short 
distance down the eastern slope. Later, General Sheridan 
advanced and drove the enemy from a strong position, 
captured two pieces of artillery, numerous small-arms, and 
several wagons from a supply-train. 

During the night General Hardee withdrew his forces 
from the position which he had persistently held against 
General Sherman. 

[Pursuit was made early the next day, and an engagement took place 
at Einggold, with skirmishes at other points. General Sherman was 
sent on a rapid march to Knoxville, to relieve Burnside, whose army 
was in great danger. This important duty was successfully performed, 
and Longstreet, who had been besieging Knoxville, withdrew to Vir- 
ginia.] 

The official reports of the commanders-in-chief of the 
two armies do not give their strength. It is probable that 



De Paris] PICKETT'S CHARGE AT GETTYSBURG. 467 

General Grant had sixty thousand men in action, and Gen- 
eral Bragg forty thousand. The former had thirteen di- 
visions, including two detached brigades, and the latter 
had eight, with perhaps a corresponding diminution. 

General Bragg's loss in killed and wounded is not known. 
He lost by capture six thousand one hundred and forty-two 
men, forty-two guns, sixty-nine gun-carriages, and seven 
thousand stand of small-arms. His loss in material was 
immense, part of which he desti'oyed in his flight, but a 
large fraction, which was uninjured, fell to the national 
army. 

The aggregate losses of the Armies of the Cumberland 
and Tennessee were seven hundred and fifty-seven killed, 
four thousand five hundred and twenty-nine wounded, and 
three hundred and thirty missing. These losses were 
small compared with those of other battles of similar pro- 
portions, and exceedingl}?- small in view of the fact that 
the enemy generally resisted behind intrenehments. 



PICKETT'S CHARGE AT GETTYSBURG. 

COMTE DE PARIS. 

[The stirring and important events which marked the prosecution 
of the war in the West during the year 1863 were matched by equally 
important ones in the East. Three great battles were fought, one in 
the closing days of 1862, and the others in the following year, of which 
the last, that of Gettysburg, was in certain respects the greatest battle 
of the war, and has been generally accepted as the turning-point, from 
which the fortunes of the Confederacy began to flow rapidly down- 
ward. We select, therefore, a detailed description of the closing scene 
of this great conflict, preceding our selection with a review of the 
events that succeeded the battle of Antietam. 



468 AMERICAN HISTORY. [De Park 

It was on September 19 that Lee crossed the Potomac and retired 
into Virginia, after that battle. November arrived ere McClellan was 
ready to follow him. Meanwhile, the impatience of the authorities at 
McClellan 's laclc of activity had grown extreme, and on the 7th of 
November he was removed, and the command of the army given to 
General Burnside. The events that succeeded gave no encouraging 
warrant for this change of commanders. Feeling that he must do 
something at once to satisfy the government and the country. Burn- 
side moved upon Fredericksburg, with the intention of occupying that 
town. His pontoon-bridges, however, were not ready, and he delayed 
crossing the Kappahannock so long while waiting for them that Lee 
had time to seize and fortify the heights back of the town and move 
his whole army to that situation. It was the night of December 10 
before the crossing was attempted. Two bridges were laid, in front 
of and below the town. The march over the first proved difficult and 
sanguinary, on account of sharp-shooters concealed in the houses of 
the town. But during the day a crossing was effected at both points, 
and the army massed for an assault on the heights, which were strongly 
fortified, and guarded by an army of eighty thousand men. 

The assault took place on the morning of the 13th, and was repulsed 
at every point with dreadful slaughter. The principal attack was made 
from the town, on the difficult position of Marye's Heights. It proved 
a murderous and futile effort, the assailants being mowed down in 
myriads and forced to retire in complete discomfiture. Charge after 
charge was made, but all with the same result. The Union losses 
during that fatal day are given by Draper at thirteen thousand seven 
hundred and seventy-one ; those of the Confederates at five thousand 
three hundred and nine. Burnside intended to renew the struggle the 
next morning, but his leading officers were so strongly opposed to this 
that he withdrew the order, and on the night of the 15th evacuated 
the town and recrossed the river. Another movement was essayed by 
Burnside early in 1863. It was intended to cross the river at a point 
beyond the range of the Confederate works ; but an unlooked-for thaw 
reduced the roads to quagmires, through which it proved impossible to 
move the trains and artillery, and the expedition had to be abandoned. 
Shortly afterwards General Hooker was appointed to replace Burnside 
in command of the Army of the Potomac. 

With the opening spring Hooker attempted a flank movement on 
the Confederates, which resulted as disastrously as had Burnside's 
direct assault. He divided his army, leaving the left wing, under 



De ParisI PICKETT'S CHARGE AT GETTYSBURG. 469 

Sedgwick, to threaten Fredericksburg, while the main body of the 
army crossed the river some distance above the city, and marched into 
a wild district known as Chancellorsville, a country overgrown with a 
wilderness of thicket. Lee's army was considerably outnumbered, but 
he managed his forces, with such skill as to defeat and almost dis- 
organize his confident opponents. Leaving a small force to guard the 
heights at Fredericksburg, he marched towards Chancellorsville on the 
29th of April. On the 1st of May, Hooker ordered an advance towards 
Fredericksburg. A flank attack was arranged by Lee, which proved 
remarkably successful. Jackson led the flanking column through the 
difficult country known as the Wilderness, and late on May 2 he made 
so sudden and furious a charge on Hooker's right that it was broken 
and driven back in confusion. Jackson was mortally wounded in this 
assault, — a serious loss to the Confederate army. 

On the 3d the battle recommenced, and Hooker was severely pressed 
at all points. Meanwhile, Sedgwick had crossed at Fredericksburg, 
taken Marye's Heights, and was marching to join Hooker. Lee sent 
a strong force to meet him, and drove him back to the river, which 
Sedgwick recrossed on the night of May 4. This repulse ended the 
conflict. Hooker felt it necessary to retreat, and on the night of May 
5, during a severe storm of wind and rain, the pontoons were laid and 
the whole army marched back to the northern side of the Rappahan- 
nock. The losses were heavy on both sides, though the Union forces 
sufl'ered the most severely. "With this battle ended the offensive efforts 
of the Army of the Potomac for that period. Its skilful antagonist 
immediately afterwards assumed the offensive, and threw his opponents 
into an attitude of defence, in which they much better proved their 
ability to cope with him. 

Suddenly breaking camp, Lee began a rapid march northward, han- 
dling his troops so skilfully as to leave his antagonist in great doubt as 
to his intentions. Hooker moved north, disposing his army to cover 
Washington, and endeavoring to penetrate the designs of the force 
that was concealed behind the Blue Eidge. Ewell, in the advance, 
marched hastily up the Valley, and surprised General Milroy at Win- 
chester, defeating him, and capturing the bulk of his army, artillery, 
and trains. Lee's whole army was across the Potomac before his pur- 
pose was divined. He crossed at Shepherdstown on the 24th of June, 
and advanced with all speed into Pennsylvania, massing his army at 
Chambersburg on June 27. Ewell had occupied this place several 
days before. An advance on Harrisburg seemed contemplated, and 

^ u. 40 



470 AMERICAN HISTORY. [De Paris 

part of the army reached and occupied York, but information that the 
Union army was rapidly approaching necessitated a change of plan, 
and a movement of concentration upon Gettysburg began. Lee's cav- 
alry, under Stuart, had meanwhile moved so far to the eastward as to 
be intercepted by the Union advance, and their services were lost during 
the subsequent events. 

Meanwhile, Hooker had discovered the purpose of the enemy, and 
began a march north which was prosecuted with the utmost speed. A 
general alarm pervaded the North, and the militia were called out in 
all directions. Yet the only safe reliance lay in the Army of the 
Potomac, which was making a strenuous effort to meet and check its 
opponent. On the 28th of June, Hooker, dissatisfied with the orders 
from Halleck at Washington, offered his resignation, and was replaced 
by General Meade, an officer previously known as an able and efficient 
corps-commander. He continued the rapid march northward, his 
advance reaching Gettysburg on July 1. 

The advance, consisting of Buford's cavalry, numbering about four 
thousand men, first came into collision with the enemy, about a mile 
beyond the town. Dismounted, and acting as infantry, these men held 
their ground with great pertinacity against the steadily-increasing Con- 
federate force. Reynolds, who led the Union advance, pushed forward 
his division to the support of Buford, and a hot battle ensued. Rey- 
nolds was killed, and after several hours of battle the Union line was 
forced to give way before the superior numbers and the impetuous 
charges of their foe. The conflict ended in a retreat to Cemetery 
Ridge, a range of low hills extending westerly and southerly from the 
town, and ending in a prominent and rugged elevation called Round 
Top. Meade, whose army was now rapidly coming up, decided to 
make this ridge his defensive position ; while Lee's army, as it arrived, 
was stationed on the less elevated Seminary Ridge, somewhat over a 
mile distant from the ground occupied by the Union army. In thi.s 
struggle for positions Meade had gained the advantage, having much 
the stronger ground. 

Lee's advance was definitely checked. He must either retreat, or 
brush away the array in front of him and uncover the North by its 
defeat. He decided on attempting the latter. On the 2d of July an 
assault in force took place, Ewell moving against Meade's right and 
Longstreet against his left wing. The first movement proved of sec- 
ondary interest, the main conflict of the day being that between Long- 
street's and Sickles's corps. 



Dk Paris] PICKETT'S CHARGE AT GETTYSBURG. 471 

Apparently by a misconception of Meade's instructions, Sickles had 
advanced his corps bej'ond the line of Cemetery Ridge, which at this 
point was quite low, and occupied the high ground along which runs 
the Emmettsburg road, some four or five hundred yards in advance. 
Though this position was in certain respects advantageous, it had the 
important defect that the left flank was exposed, and had to be bent 
back at an angle through low ground towards Round Top. This angle 
occupied a peach orchard, which became the main point of the Con- 
federate attack. 

It was late in the day when the Confederate force under Longstreet 
advanced to the assault. His right, under Hood, fell upon that portion 
of Sickles 's corps between the peach orchard and Round Top. A gap 
had been left between the left flank and this elevation, and through 
this opening the right of Hood's line thrust itself un}>erceived, and 
advanced on Little Round Top, a rocky spur of the loftier hill above 
named. This movement placed Meade's army in great jeopardy. 
Little Round Top was at that moment quite unoccupied, and if cap- 
tured by the Confederates the entire Union line would have been taken 
in reverse. Fortunately, General Warren discovered the critical situ- 
ation of afiairs in time to avert the danger. He hurried a brigade to 
the summit, brought a battery to the same point, and was just in time 
to repulse Hood's Texans, who were advancing eagerly to seize the 
hill. A desperate struggle ensued, the bayonet being used when the 
ammunition was exhausted. The position was secured, but not with- 
out much loss of life. 

The heaviest pressure of the Confederate attack fell upon the salient 
angle in Sickles's line at the peach orchard. This position was stub- 
bornly defended, but was at length carried by the impetuous assaults 
of Longstreet's men. Its capture quickly exposed the faulty character 
of the Union line. The enemy had burst through its central key- 
point, and was at liberty to assail the disrupted forces to right and left. 
One of the most desperate conflicts of the war ensued. The exposed 
lines were gradually withdrawn, while other brigades and divisions 
were hurried to the front, and a confused succession of advances and 
retreats took place, in which many valuable ofiicers lost their lives, and 
the ground was strewn with multitudes of the dead and dying. Gen- 
eral Sickles himself was severely wounded, losing a leg. Finally the 
Union line reached the position it had been originally intended to 
occupy, along the crest of Cemetery Ridge. The eflbrts of the enemy 
to break the line continued, hut they had lost so heavily during their 



472 AMERICAN HISTORY. [De Paris 

advance, and were so exhausted by their efforts, that their final sallies 
■were easily repelled. Though Longstreet's success had been consider- 
able, it was in no sense decisive. No point of Cemetery Ridge had 
been taken. About dusk Hancock ordered a counter-charge, before 
which the enemy easily yielded. On the left six regiments of the Penn- 
sylvania Eeserves, led by General Crawford, advanced on the enemy 
in front of Little Eound Top, drove them from a stone wall which 
they had occupied, and to the woods beyond the wheat-field in front. 
During the night the opposite margins of this field were held by the 
combatants. 

Ewell's attack on the Union right had been somewhat more success- 
ful. Johnson's division had gained a foothold within the Union lines 
which it held during the night. It was intended by Lee to make this 
position, in the next day's battle, the basis of an assault in force on the 
right wing of the Union army, while the left should be simultaneously 
assailed. But this project was seriously deranged by Meade's prompt- 
ness of action. Early on the morning of the 3d a strong attack was 
made on Johnson before reinforcements could reach him, and he was 
driven out of the works he had occupied. The Union lines at that 
point were re-formed. 

Lee's plan of action was now changed, and an assault ordered against 
the Union centre. Pickett's division of Virginians was selected to 
make this desperate charge, one destined to become fiimous in the 
annals of war. In preparation for the assault the great bulk of the 
Confederate artillery was massed in front of the selected point of attack, 
and the most terrible artillery -fire of the whole war opened upon the 
Union intrenchments. Meade had massed a smaller number of guns 
to reply. The story of the grand charge that succeeded, and of its dis- 
astrous repulse, we give in the words of the Comte de Paris, from the 
translated edition of his "History of the Civil War in America," 
published by Messrs. Porter & Coates, of Philadelphia.] 

It is now the hottest time of day; a strange silence 
reigns over the battle-field, causing the Federal soldiers, 
worn out with fatigue, to look upon the impending gen- 
eral attack, which they have anticipated since early dawn, 
as extremely long in coming. , , . Longstreet learns at 
last that everything is ready; his orders are awaited to 
open the fire which is to precede the assault. . . . Much 



Dk Paris] PICKETT'S CHARGE AT GETTYSBURG. 473 

time has been lost, for it is already one o'clock in the after- 
noon. Two cannon-shots fired on the right by the AVash- 
ington Artillery at intervals of one minute suddenly break 
the silence which Avas prevailing over the battle-field. It 
means, " Be on your guard !" which is well understood by 
both armies. The solitary smoke of these shots has not 
3'et been dispersed when the whole Confederate line is one 
blaze. . . . One hundred and thirty-eight pieces of cannon 
obey Longstreet's signal. The Fedei-als are not at all sur- 
prised at this abrupt prelude : they have had time to re- 
cover from the shock of the previous day, and have made 
good use of it. . . . [They] have eighty pieces of artillery 
to reply to the enemy. In conformity with Hunt's orders, 
they wait a quarter of an hour before replying, in order 
to take a survey of the batteries upon which they will 
have to concentrate their fire. They occupy positions 
aff'ording better shelter than those of the Confederates, 
but the formation of their line gives the latter the advan- 
tage of a concentric fire. 

Moi-e than two hundred guns are thus engaged in this 
artillery combat, the most terrible the New World has 
ever witnessed. The Confederates fire volleys from all 
the batteries at once, whose shots, directed toward the 
same point, produce more effect than successive firing. 
On the previous day their projectiles passed over the 
enemy ; the}' have rectified the elevation of their pieces, 
and readily obtain a precision of aim unusual to them. 
The plateau occupied by the Federals forms a slight de- 
pression of the ground in the centre, which hides their 
movements, but affords them no protection from the 
enemy's fire ; the shells burst in the midst of the reserve 
batteries, supply-trains, and ambulances; the houses are 
tottering and tumbling down; the head-quarters of Gen- 
eral Meade are riddled with balls, and Butterfield, his 
II. 40* 



474 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Dk Paris 

chief of staff, is sliglitly wounded. In every direction 
may be seen men seeking shelter behind the sHghtest ele- 
vations of the ground. Nothing is heard but the roar of 
cannon and the whistling of projectiles that are piercing 
the air. A still larger crowd of stragglers, wounded, and 
non-combatants than that of the day before is again 
making for the Baltimore turnpike with rapid haste. 

[This murderous fire causes considerable loss on both sides. Kem- 
per's (Confederate) brigade in a few minutes loses more than two hun- 
dred men. The Confederate ammunition is running short, while the 
hope to silence the Federal guns has as j-et proved unfounded. But 
at length the Federals cease firing, and Pickett makes ready for the 
desperate charge to which this hot artillery duel is preliminary.] 

He is informed — what he might have found out for him- 
self in spite of the roaring of the Confederate cannon — 
that the enemy's guns scarcely make any reply. The 
Federal artillery appears to be silenced from the lack of 
ammunition. The opportunity so long waited for has 
therefore at last arrived, — a mistake which the assailants 
will soon find out to their sorrow. In fact, about a quarter- 
jDast two o'clock, Meade, believing that enough ammunition 
has been expended, and wishing to provoke the attack of 
the eneni}', orders the firing to cease ; Hunt, who is watch- 
ing the battle-field in another direction, issues the same 
order at the same moment, and causes two fresh batteries, 
taken from the reserve in the rear of Hancock's line, to 
advance. For a while the voice of the Confederate cannon 
is alone heard. 

But new actors are preparing to appear on the scene. 
Pickett has caused the object of the charge they are about 
to execute to be explained to his soldiers. As the ranks 
are re-forming, many of them can no longer rise; the 
ground is strewn with the dead, the wounded, and others 
that are suiferino; from the heat, for a burnino; sun, still 



De Paris] PICKETT'S CHARGE AT GETTYSBURG. 475 

more scorching than that of the day before, lights up this 
bloody battle-field. But all able-bodied men are at their 
posts, and an affecting scene soon elicits a cry of admira- 
tion from both enemies and friends. Full of ardor, as if 
it were rushing to the assault of the Washington Capitol 
itself, and yet marching with measured steps, so as not 
to break its alignment, Pickett's division moves forward 
solidl}' and quietly in magnificent order. Garnett, in the 
centre, sweeping through the artillery -line, leaves Wilcox 
behind him, whose men, lying flat upon the ground, are 
waiting for another order to support the attack. Kemper 
is on the right ; Armistead is moving forward at double- 
quick to place himself on the left along the line of the 
other two brigades ; a swarm of skirmishers covers the 
front of the division. The smoke has disappeared, and 
this small band perceives at last the long line of the Fed- 
eral positions, which the hollow in the ground where they 
had sought shelter had, until then, hidden from its view. 
It moves forward full of confidence, convinced that a 
single effort will pierce this line, which is already waver- 
ing, and feeling certain that this effort will be sustained 
by the rest of the army. Taking its loss into considera- 
tion, it numbers no more than four thousand five hundred 
men at the utmost, but the auxiliary forces of Pettigrew, 
Trimble, and Wilcox raise the number of assailants to 
fourteen thousand. If they are all put in motion in time, 
and well led against a particular portion of the Federal 
line, their eflFort may triumph over every obstacle and 
decide the fate of the battle. Marching in the direction 
of the salient position occupied by Hancock, which Lee 
has given him as the objective point, Pickett, after passing 
beyond the front of Wilcox, causes each of his brigades 
to make a half-wheel to the left. This manoeuvre, though 
well executed, is attended with serious difficulties, for the 



476 AMERICAN HISTORY. [De Paris 

division, drawn up en echelon across the Emmettsburg 
road, presents its right flank to the Federals to such an 
extent that the latter mistake the three echelons for three 
successive lines. 

The moment has arrived for the Federal artillery to 
commence firing. McG-ilvery concentrates the fire of his 
forty pieces against the assailants, the Federals even at- 
tributing the change in Pickett's direction to this fire, — a 
wrong conclusion, for it is when he exposes his flanks that 
the enemy's shots cause the greatest ravages in his ranks. 
If the thirty-four pieces of Hazard bearing upon the 
salient position could follow McGilvery's example, this 
artillerj^, which Pickett thought to be paralyzed, would 
suflice to crush him. But, by order of his immediate 
chief, Hazard has fired oftener and in quicker succession 
than Hunt had directed, and at the decisive moment he 
has nothing left in his caissons but grape-shot. He is 
therefore compelled to wait till the enemy is within short 
range. Pickett, encouraged by his silence, crosses several 
fields enclosed by strong fences, which his skirmishers had 
not been able to reach before the cannonade; then, having 
reached the base of the elevation he is to attack, he once 
more changes his direction by a half-wheel to the right, 
halting to rectify his line. 

The Confederate artillery is endeavoring to supj)ort him, 
but is counting its shots, for it is obliged to be Si^aring of 
its ammunition : the seven light pieces intended to accom- 
pany the infantry, being wanted elsewhere, fail to appear 
at the very moment when they should push forward, and 
no other battery with sufficient supplies can be found to 
take their place. 

But, what is still more serious, orders do not seem to 
have been clearly given to the troops that are to sustain 
Pickett. On the left Pcttigrew has put his men in motion 



De Paris] PICKETT' S CHARGE AT GETTYSBURG. 477 

at the fii-st order, but, being posted in the rear of Pickett, 
he has a wider space of ground to go over, and naturally 
finds himself distanced; moreover, his soldiers have not 
yet recovered from the combat of the previous day: from 
the start their ranks are seen wavering, and they do not 
advance with the same ardor as those of Pickett. . . . 
Presently these troops, through their imposing appearance, 
attract a portion of the enemy's attention and fire, and at 
a distance of two hundred and fifty yards they stop to 
reply with volleys of musketry. On the right Wilcox 
has remained inactive a considerable time, being probably 
detained by a diversity of opinion among the chieftains 
regarding the role that is assigned respectively to them. . . . 
Finally, in pursuance of an order from Pickett at the 
moment when the latter has halted in the vicinity of the 
Codori house, Wilcox pushes the brigade forward in a 
column of deployed battalions. In order to get sooner 
into line, and thus draw a portion of the enemy's fire, he 
marches dii-ectly on. He cannot, however, recover the 
distance that separates him from the leading assailants, 
the latter having disappeared in a hollow; then, becoming 
enveloped in smoke, he loses sight of them, and, following 
alone his direction to the right, does not succeed in cover- 
ing their flank. 

In the mean while, Pickett, causing his skirmishers to 
fall back, has again put his troops in motion, without 
waiting for his echelons to get completely into line: the 
artillery and infantry posted along the ridge he is to cap- 
ture open a terrific fire of grape and musketry against 
him at a distance of two hundred yards, while the shot 
and shell of McGilvery take his line again in flank, causing 
frightful gaps in its ranks, killing at times as many as ten 
men by a single shot. 

[The Federal position was a very strong one. A portion of the 



478 AMERICAN HISTORY. [De Paris 

surface of the ridge, up whose slope the charge had to be made, was 
bordered by rocks projecting several feet from the ground. This 
natural wall was continued farther on by an ordinary stone wall, 
while an intrenchment covered other portions of the ridge.] 

Seeing their adversaries advancing against these for- 
midable positions, those amongst the Fedei'als who fought 
under Burnside have the same opinion : they are at last 
to be avenged for the Fredericksburg disaster. The as- 
sailants also understand the perils that await them. On 
the left, Pettigrew is yet far off; on the right, Wilcox 
strays away from them and disappears amid the smoke. 
Pickett therefore finds himself alone with his three bri- 
gades. Far from hesitating, his soldiers rush forward at 
a double-quick. A fire of musketry breaks out along the 
entire front of Gibbon's division. The Confederate ranks 
are thinning as far as the eye can reach. Garnett, whose 
hrigi^de has kept a little in advance, and who, although 
sick, has declined to leave the post of honor, falls dead 
within a hundred yards of the Federal line ; for an instant 
his troops come to a halt. They are immediately joined 
b}" Kemper, who at a distance of sixty yards in the rear 
has allowed their right to cover his left. The two brigades 
form a somewhat unsteady line, which opens fire ujjon 
the enemy. But the Confederate projectiles flatten them- 
selves by thousands upon the strata of rocks, which are 
soon covered with black spots like a target, and upon the 
wall behind which the Unionists are seeking shelter. The 
game is too uneven : they must either fly or charge. 
These brave soldiers have only halted for a few minutes, 
allowing Armistead the necessary time to get into line. 
Encouraged by the example set by their chief, they scale 
the acclivity which rises before them: their yells mingle 
with the rattling of musketry ; the smoke soon envelops 
the combatants. 



De Paris] PICKETT'S CHARGE AT GETTYSBURG. 479 

Gibbon, seeing the enemy advancing with such determi- 
nation, tries to stop his progress by a counter-charge, but 
his voice is not heard ; his soldiers fire in haste, without 
leaving their ranks ; the Confederates rush upon them. 
Unfortunately for the assailants, their right not being pro- 
tected by Wilcox, their flank is exposed to the little wood 
which stretches beyond the Federal line. Stannard's sol- 
diers, concealed by the foliage, have sufi'ered but little 
from the bombardment ; Hancock, always ready to seize 
a favorable opportunity, causes them to form en potence 
along the edge of tlie wood in order to take the enemy's 
line in flank. Two regiments from Armistead's right thus 
receive a murderous fire which almost decimates and dis- 
organizes them. The remainder of the brigade throws 
itself in the rear of the centre of Pickett's line, which, 
following this movement, momentarily inclines towards 
Ilays in order to attack the Federals at close quarters. 
Armistead, urging his men forward, has reached the front 
rank between Kemper and Garnott, — if it be yet possible 
to distinguish the regiments and brigades in this compact 
mass of human beings, which, all covered with blood, 
seems to be driven by an irresistible force superior to the 
individual will of those composing it, and throws itself 
like a solid body upon the Union line. The shock is ter- 
rific : it falls at first upon the brigades of Hall and Har- 
row, then concentrates itself upon that of Webb, against 
which the assailants are oscillating right and left. The 
latter general in the midst of his soldiers encourages them 
by his example ; he is presently wounded. The struggle 
is waged at close quarters ; the Confederates pierce the 
first line of the Federals, but the latter, dislodged from 
the wall, foil back upon the second line, formed of small 
earthworks erected on the ridge in the vicinity of their 
guns. These pieces fire grape-shot upon the assailants. 



480 AMERICAN HISTORY. [De Paris 

Hancock and Gibbon bring forward all their reserves. . . . 
The regiments become mixed; the commanders do not 
know where their soldiers are to be found ; but they are 
all pressing each other in a compact mass, forming at 
random a living and solid bulwark more than four ranks 
deep. 

A clump of trees, in the neighborhood of which Gushing 
has posted his guns, commanding the whole plateau, is the 
objective point that the Gonfederates keep in view. Ar- 
mistead, on foot, his hat perched on the point of his sword, 
rushes forward to attack the battery. "With one hundred 
and fifty men determined to follow him unto death, he 
pierces the mass of combatants, passes beyond the earth- 
works, and reaches the line of guns, which can no longer 
fire for fear of killing friends and foes indiscriminately. 
But at the same moment, by the side of Gushing, his 
young and gallant adversary, he falls pierced with balls. 
They both lie at the foot of the clump of trees which marks 
the extreme point reached by the Gonfederates in this 
supreme effort. These few ti'ees, henceforth historical, 
like a snail on the strand struck by a furious sea, no longer 
possessing strength enough to draw back into its shell, 
constitute the limit before which the tide of invasion stops, 
— a limit traced by the blood of some of the bravest 
soldiers that America has produced. 

In fact, if the Federals have thus seen a large number 
of their chieftains fall, and their artillery left without am- 
munition, the effort of the assailants, on the other hand, 
is exhausted. 

[Wilcox, on the right, fails to reach a supporting position. Petti- 
grew, on the left, followed closely by Trimble, ari-ives near the point 
of contest, but fails to maintain his ground.] 

After a combat at short range, very brief, but extremely 



De Paris] PICKETT'S CHARGE AT GETTYSBURG. 481 

murderous, in -vrhich Trimble is seriously wounded, his 
troops and those of Pettigrew retire, even before the two 
brigade^ under Thomas and Perrin have reached their 
position, and while Pickett is still fighting on the right. 
The regular fire of Hays's impregnable line drives the as- 
sailants from that point in the greatest disorder as soon as 
they have taken one step in retreat. The four brigades 
of the Third Confederate corps that have thus been re- 
pulsed leave two thousand pi'isoners and fifteen stands of 
colors in the hands of the enemy. A few regiments of 
Archer's and Seales's brigades, which outflank Hays on the 
left, throw themselves on the right and unite with Pick- 
ett's soldiers, who are still contending with Gibbon. This 
reinforcement is, however, quite insufficient for the Con- 
federates, who thus find themselves isolated, without sup- 
port and without reserves, in the midst of the Federal line. 
Kemper is wounded in his turn. Out of eighteen field- 
officers and four generals, Pickett and one lieutenant-colonel 
alone remain unharmed : there is hardly any one left 
around them, and it is a miracle to see them yet safe and 
sound in the midst of such carnage. 

The division does not fall back; it is annihilated. The 
flags which a while ago were bravely floating upon tha 
enemy's parapets fall successively to the ground, only to 
be picked up by the conquerors. A number of soldiers, 
not daring to pass a second time the ground over which 
the Federals cross their fit-e, throw down their arms : 
among those who are trj-ing to gain the Southern lines 
many victims are stricken down by cannon-balls. The 
conflict is at an end. Out of four thousand eight hundred 
men that have followed Pickett, scarcely twelve to thir- 
teen hundred are to be found in the rear of Alexander's 
guns; three thousand five hundred have been sacrificed 
and twelve stands of colors lost in this fatal charge. 
II.— v ff 41 



482 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sherman 

[While this retreat was taking place, Wilcox, who believed Pickett 
to be still fighting, continued his advance. Stannard opened fire upon 
him from the opposite side of the sheltering wood, and advanced two 
regiments to a position where their fire took the Confederate line in 
flank. But Wilcox quickly realized the situation, and hastily retired, 
leaving two hundred of his men on the field. 

Thus disastrously ended the most desperate assault of the whole war. 
It could scarcely have ended otherwise, considering the broad space of 
open ground which the assailants had to traverse, and the advanta- 
geous position occupied by their foes. With it ended the final efibrt 
at invasion on the part of Lee. With this grand charge and its re- 
pulse the tide of the war definitely turned, and from the slope of Ceme- 
tery Eidge it began to run downward to its final ebb at Appomattox. 

Whether an advance in force by the Federals after the repulse of 
Pickett would have been successful, is a question which has been much 
debated. At all events, Meade did not risk it, but preferred to hold 
the advantage he had gained. Nothing was left to the Confederate 
army but retreat. On the 4th of July this retreat began. It was fol- 
lowed, but with considerable deliberation. Lee reached the Potomac 
unharmed. This river was swollen, and he was obliged to remain for 
some days on its banks, waiting for the waters to fall, and threatened 
by Meade. But the expected attack did not come, and the Confeder- 
ates crossed the stream on the 12th of July without loss. Soon after- 
wards Meade followed across the Potomac, and once more Virginia 
became the battle-ground.] 



SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA. 

WILLIAM T. SHERMAN. 

[As preliminary to Sherman's story of his remarkable expedition 
we have an important series of militarj' events to pass in review. One of 
these was the destruction of the public works at Meridian, Mississippi, 
by an expedition from Vicksburg. This town was a railroad-centre 
of the greatest importance. It was taken on February 14, and its 
depots, arsenals, storehouses, etc., destroyed. The railroads were 
ruined for some sixty miles south and west. In April occurred one 



Sherman] SHERMANS MARCH TO THE SEA. 483 

of the most terrible events of the war, the capture of Fort Pillow by 
the Confederate General Forrest, and the ruthless massacre of the 
negro soldiers of the garrison. The brutality of the slaughter shocked 
all Christendom. 

On May 1, 1864, General Sherman was at Chattanooga with an army 
of nearly one hundred thousand men. General Johnston, who had 
succeeded Bragg, opposed him with an army of about seventy-five 
thousand men. Sherman's advance began on the 6th of May. His 
army was stationed at some distance in front of Chattanooga, while 
Johnston's army was massed at Dalton, a strong defensive position. 
The first collision took place at Eesaca, to the south of Dalton, which 
latter place Johnston had abandoned on finding himself outflanked. 
Howard occupied Dalton, and pressed him in his retreat. At Resaca 
a severe battle occurred, in which Sherman lost over four thousand 
men. He succeeded, however, in turning the Confederate works, and 
Johnston was again forced to retreat. The pursuit and retreat con- 
tinued across the Etowah River, which no attempt was made to defend. 
Johnston made his next stand in the Allatoona Pass, south of that 
stream. After some further fighting, Sherman succeeded in turning 
that position also, while Johnston retired to strong positions in the 
Kenesaw, Pine, and Lost Mountains, near Marietta. In a month's 
time Sherman had advanced nearly one hundred miles, and forced the 
enemy to desert four strong positions, with heavy loss. 

On the 9th of June, Sherman advanced again. The position held 
by Johnston was a very strong one, but the line he occupied was too 
long for the strength of his army. From one extremity to the other 
it was twelve miles long. Sherman forced him to yield Lost and Pine 
Mountains, but the powerful post of Kenesaw was so strongly in- 
trenched as to be nearly impregnable. The whole country, Sherman 
says, had become one vast fort, defended by fifty miles of trenches and 
batteries. For three weeks, during which operations around Kenesaw 
continued, the rain fell almost incessantly, yet despite this the army 
kept in high spirits, and gradually pushed forward, step by step. 
Sherman, finding that he must either assault the lines or turn the posi- 
tion, determined on the former. Two assaults were made, at difierent 
points, on June 27. Both failed, and three thousand men were killed, 
wounded, and missing. Little damage was done to the enemy. 

The second alternative was then adopted. A movement to turn the 
position was begun on the night of July 2, and instantly Kenesaw 
was abandoned. Shermans skirmishers were on the mountam-top by 



484 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sherman 

dawn of the next day. Johnston next formed a defensive line behind 
the Chattahoochee River, yet by the 9th Sherman had crossed the 
stream above him, when he at once retreated. Consternation now 
began to spread through the Confederacy. More than five miles of 
works of defence, of the most formidable kind, had been constructed, 
yet they were abandoned without a blow. Only eight miles distant lay 
the railroad-centre of Atlanta, with its magazines, stores, arsenals, 
workshops, and foundries, one of the most important posts in the 
Confederate States. 

Sherman now rested until the 17th, to bring up stores and recruit 
his men. He marched again on that day, and on the same day John- 
ston, whose cautious policy had given oftence to the Richmond authori- 
ties, was removed from his command and replaced by Hood. The 
latter at once began offensive operations, and severe battles were fought 
on the 20th and the 22d, in both of which the Confederates were re- 
pulsed. In the two conflicts the assailants lost about thirteen thousand 
men. The Union loss was less than half this number. A third battle 
took place on the 28th, in which Hood was again the assailant, and in 
which he was repulsed with a loss of five thousand men, Sherman's 
loss being less than six hundred. This attack had been made to check 
Sherman's flanking movements, which now continued with less oppo- 
sition. He eventually raised the siege of Atlanta, and fell on Hood's 
line of communication, thoroughly destroying the railroad, and inter- 
posing his army between Hood and a large detachment which had been 
sent out under Hardee. This circumstance made necessary the aban- 
donment of the city, which had been rendered untenable. It was de- 
serted during the night of September 1, and fell into Sherman's hands. 
In this series of operations the Union losses had been about thirty 
thousand, those of the Confederates about forty-two thousand. Hood 
destroyed all the valuable railroad and other war material in the city 
before leaving it. Sherman, finding it inadvisable to hold the city, 
felt it necessary as a war-measure to render it useless to the Confed- 
erates. Accordingly, everything in the place was burned except the 
churches and dwelling-houses. 

Hood now marched against Sherman's line of communication, 
hoping, by the destruction of the railroad over which the Union sup- 
plies were drawn, to force his antagonist to retreat. He was pursued 
for some distance, but Sherman soon desisted from pursuit, having de- 
cided upon another plan of operations. General Thomas had been 
sent to Nashville, to guard the State of Tennessee against Confederate 



Sherman] SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA. 485 

aggression. Sherman now sent the Fourth and Twenty-Third Corps, 
numbering twenty-three thousand men, to reinforce him, retaining 
about sixty-five thousand men for the bold enterprise which he had 
projected, that of cutting loose from lines of communication, and 
marching across Georgia, from Atlanta to the ocean. Before describing 
this march, the final important event of the war in the Western States 
may be briefly reviewed. 

Instead of following Sherman, Hood continued to march northward, 
and forced a crossing of the Tennessee Eiver near Florence. He had 
with him about thirty thousand infantry and ten thousand cavalry. 
The corps under Schofield and Stanley, which Sherman had sent to 
reinforce Thomas, faced Hood at Florence, but gradually retired as he 
advanced, obstructing his march. No important collision took place 
until the two armies reached Franklin, on the Harpeth Eiver, eighteen 
miles south of Nashville. Schofield delayed here to pass his wagon- 
trains over the river, and before he could follow with the troops Hood 
was upon him. His position was perilous. Of his seventeen thousand 
men a portion had crossed, and he had but ten thousand available to 
meet Hood. If defeated, with the river in his rear, destruction was 
imminent. 

Schofield bravely held his ground, however, repulsing four successive 
attacks with severe loss to the enemy. Hood lost about six thousand 
men, Schofield but two thousand three hundred. During the night 
the river was crossed, and a rapid march made to Nashville, in which 
city the whole army was concentrated on the 1st of December. Thomas 
had covered the place with a line of strong fortifications, while his 
army was gradually strengthened till it amounted to more than fifty- 
six thousand troops. Hood approached Nashville on December 2, and 
established his line in front of that of Thomas. In this position both 
armies lay till the 15th of the month, busily preparing for battle. In 
the mean time great impatience was felt in the North at the seeming 
procrastination of Thomas. Grant constantly urged him to decisive 
action, but without eflfect. Nothing would stir him until he was ready 
to move. The idea was entertained of replacing him with some more 
active soldier, and Grant, impatient at the delay, left City Point on a 
hasty journey to Nashville. He got no further than Washington. 
On reaching there he received news which satisfied him that Thomas 
had best be left alone. The cautious soldier had moved, and Hood's 
army had almost ceased to exist. 

On the 15th of December, a morning of fog and gloom, the Union 
11. 41* ■ 



486 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Sherman 

army marched out of its intrenchments, and fell, with the force of a 
surprise, on Hood's lines. A severe battle followed, in which Hood's 
army was driven back at every point, with severe loss, and forced to 
take up a new line of defence. At dawn of the next day the battle 
recommenced, the Confederates being assailed with such impetuosity 
that their line was broken in a dozen places and driven back in utter 
rout. All their artillery, and thousands of prisoners, were taken, 
while their losses in killed and wounded were much greater than those 
of the Union forces. The pursuit of the flying army was pushed with 
the greatest energy and success, prisoners being captured at every point, 
and the lately disciplined force reduced to a terror-stricken mob. The 
rear-guard of cavalry and infantry under Porrest bravely covered the 
flying army, but the pursuit was pushed day and night until the re- 
maining fugitives had made their way across the Tennessee, when 
Thomas recalled his troops. There was no longer occasion for pursuit. 
Hood's army had ceased to exist as an army. Over thirteen thousand 
prisoners had been taken. Over two thousand deserters were received. 
Many fled to their homes. The loss in killed and wounded had been 
enormous. Seventy-two pieces of artillery, and vast quantities of 
other war-material, were captured. The army was annihilated, with 
a loss to Thomas in all of about ten thousand killed, wounded, and 
missing. This terrible stroke ended the war in the Mississippi Valley. 
No organized army appeared again in the field. 

"While these movements were taking place, others of equal impor- 
tance wei'e occurring in Georgia. The story of the adventurous march 
which followed Sherman's abandonment of Atlanta is one of the most 
dramatic character, and no incident of the war excited greater interest 
and enthusiasm. It has been well described by many historians, but 
we prefer to give it in the words of the hero himself, and therefore 
make our selection from the " Memoirs of W. T. Sherman."] 

About seven a.m. of I^Tovember 16 we rode out of At- 
lanta by the Decatur road, filled by the marching troops 
and wagons of the Fourteenth Corps, and, reaching the 
hill just outside of the old rebel works, we naturally paused 
to look back upon the scenes of our past battles. We stood 
upon the very ground whereon was fought the bloody 
battle of July 22, and could see the copse of wood where 



Sherman] SHERMAN S MARCH TO THE SEA. 487 

McPherson fell. Behind us lay Atlanta, smouldering and 
in ruins, the black smoke rising high in air, and hanging 
like a pall over the ruined city. Away off in the distance, 
on the McDonough road, was the rear of Howard's column, 
the gun-barrels glistening in the sun, the white-topped 
wagons stretching away to the south ; and right before us 
the Fourteenth Corps, marching steadily and rapidl}^, with 
a cheery look and swinging pace, that made light of the 
thousand miles that lay between us and Richmond. Some 
band, by accident, struck up the anthem of " John Brown's 
soul goes marching on ;" the men caught up the strain, 
and never before or since have I heard the chorus of 
" Glory, gloxy, hallelujah!" done with more spirit, or in 
better harmony of time and place. 

Then we turned our horses' heads to the east : Atlanta 
was soon lost behind the screen of trees, and became a 
thing of the past. Around it clings many a thought of 
desperate battle, of hope and fear, that now seem like the 
memory of a dream ; and I have never seen the place 
since. The day was extremely beautiful, clear sunlight, 
with bracing air, and an unusual feeling of exhilaration 
seemed to pei'vade all minds, — a feeling of something to 
come, vague and undefined, still full of venture and intense 
interest. Even the common soldiers caught the inspira- 
tion, and many a group called out to me, as I worked my 
way past them, "Uncle Billy, I guess G-rant is waiting for 
us at Eichmond !" Indeed, the general sentiment was that 
we were marching for Richmond, and that there we should 
end the war, but how and when they seemed to care not ; 
nor did they measure the distance, or count the cost in 
life, or bother their brains about the great rivers to be 
crossed, and the food required for man and beast, that had 
to be gathered by the way. There was a "devil-may- 
care" feeling pervading officers and men, that made me 



488 AMERICAN HISTORl. [Sherman 

feel the full load of responsibility, for success would be 
accepted as a matter of course, whereas, should we fail, 
this "march" would be adjudged the wild adventure of a 
crazy fool. I had no purpose to march direct for Kich- 
mond by way of Augusta and Charlotte, but always de- 
signed to reach the sea-coast first at Savannah or Port 
Royal, South Carolina, and even kept in mind the alterna- 
tive of Pensacola. 

The first night out we camped by the roadside near 
Lithonia. Stone Mountain, a mass of granite, was in plain 
view, cutout in clear outline against the blue sky; the 
whole horizon was lurid with the bonfires of rail-ties, and 
gi'oups of men all night were carrying the heated rails to 
the nearest trees and bending them around the trunks. 
Colonel Poe had provided tools for ripping up the rails 
and twisting them when hot ; but the best and easiest way 
is the one I have described, of heating the middle of the 
iron rails on bonfires made of the cross-ties, and then wind- 
ing them around a telegraph-pole or the trunk of some 
convenient sapling. I attached much importance to this 
destruction of the railroad, gave it my own personal at- 
tention, and made reiterated orders to others on the sub- 
ject. 

The next day we passed through the handsome town of 
Covington, the soldiers closing up their ranks, the color- 
bearers unfurling their flags, and the bands striking up 
patriotic airs. The white people came out of their houses 
to behold the sight, spite of their deep hatred of the in- 
vaders, and the negroes were simply frantic with joy. 
Whenever they heard my name, they clustered about mj^ 
horse, shouted and pi'ayed in their peculiar style, which 
had a natural eloquence that would have moved a stone. 
I have witnessed hundreds, if not thousands, of such 
scenes, and can now see a poor girl, in the very ecstasy of 



Sherman] SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA. 489 

the Methodist " shout," hugging the banner of one of the 
regiments, and jumping up to the "feet of Jesus." 

I remember, when riding around by a by-street in Cov- 
ington, to avoid the crowd that followed the marching 
column, that some one brought me an invitation to dine 
with a sister of Sam Anderson, who was a cadet at West 
Point with me ; but the messenger reached me after we 
had passed the main part of the town. I asked to be ex- 
cused, and rode on to a place designated for camp, at the 
crossing of the Ulcofauhachee Eiver, about four miles to 
the east of the town. Here we made our bivouac, and I 
walked up to a plantation-house close by, where were as- 
sembled man}^ negroes, among them an old, gray-haired 
man, of as fine a head as I ever saw. I asked him if he 
understood about the war and its progress. He said he 
did; that he had been looking for the " angel of the Lord" 
ever since he was knee-high, and, though we professed to 
be fighting for the Union, he supposed that slavery was 
the cause, and that our success was to be his freedom. I 
asked him if all the negro slaves comprehended this fact, 
and he said they surely did. I then explained to him that 
we wanted the slaves to remain where they Avere, and not 
to load us down with useless mouths, which would eat up 
the food needed for our fighting-men ; that our success 
was their assured freedom; that we could receive a few of 
their young, hearty men as pioneers, but that if they fol- 
lowed us in swarms of old and young, feeble and helpless, 
it would simply load us down and cripple us in our great 
task. I think Major Henry Hitchcock was with me on 
that occasion, and made a note of the conversation, and 1 
believe that old man spread this message to the slaves, 
which was carried from mouth to mouth, to the very end 
of our journey, and that it in part saved us from the great 
danger we incurred of swelling our numbers so that famine 



490 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sherman 

would have attended our progress. It was at this very 
plantation that a soldier passed me with a ham on his 
musket, a jug of sorghum-molasses under his arm, and a 
big piece of honey in his hand, from which he was eating, 
and, catching my eye, he remarked sotto voce and carelessly 
to a comrade, " Forage liberally on the country," quoting 
from my general orders. On this occasion, as on many 
others that fell under my personal observation, I reproved 
the man, exjslained that foraging must be limited to the 
regular parties properly detailed, and that all provisions 
thus obtained must be delivered to the regular commis- 
saries, to be fairl}' distributed to the men who kept their 
ranks. 

From Covington the Fourteenth Corps (Davis's), with 
which I was travelling, turned to the right for Milledge- 
ville, via Shady Dale. General Slocum was ahead at Mad 
ison, with the Twentieth Corps, having torn up the railroad 
as far as that place, and thence had sent Geary's division 
on to the Oconee, to burn the bridges across that stream, 
when this corps turned south by Eatonton, for Milledge- 
ville, the common "objective" for the first stage of the 
" march." "We found abundance of corn, molasses, meal, 
bacon, and sweet potatoes. We also took a good many 
cows and oxen, and a large number of mules. In all these 
the countr3' was quite rich, never before having been visited 
by a hostile army ; the recent crop had been excellent, had 
been just gathered and laid by for the winter. As a rule, 
we destroyed none, but kept our wagons full, and fed our 
teams bountifully. 

The skill and success of the men in collecting forage 
was one of the features of this march. Each brigade com- 
mander had authority to detail a company of foragers, 
usually about fifty men, with one or two commissioned 
officers selected for their boldness and enterprise. This 



Sherman] SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA. 491 

party would be despatched before daylight with a knowl- 
edge of the intended day's march and camp, would pro- 
ceed on foot five or six miles from the route travelled by 
their brigade, and then visit every plantation and farm 
within range. They would usually procure a wagon or 
family carriage, load it with bacon, corn-meal, turkeys, 
chickens, ducks, and everything that could be used as food 
or forage, and would then regain the main road, usually 
in advance of the train. \Yhen this came up, they would 
deliver to the brigade commissary the supplies thus gath- 
ered by the way. Often would I pass these foraging-par- 
ties at the roadside, waiting for their wagons to come up, 
and was amused at their strange collections, — mules, horses, 
even cattle, packed with old saddles and loaded with hams, 
bacon, bags of cornmeal, and poultry of every character 
and description. Although this foraging was attended 
with great danger and hard work, there seemed to be a 
charm about it that attracted the soldiers, and it was a 
privilege to be detailed on such a party. Daily they re- 
turned mounted on all sorts of beasts, which were at once 
taken from them and appropriated to the general use; but 
the next day they would start out again on foot, only to 
repeat the experience of the day before. No doubt many 
acts of pillage, robbery, and violence were committed by 
these parties of foragers, usually called '• bummers ;" for I 
have since heard of jewelry taken from women, and the 
plunder of articles that never reached the commissary; 
but these acts were exceptional and incidental. I never 
heard of any cases of murder or rape ; and no army could 
have carried along sufficient food and forage for a march 
of three hundred miles : so that foraging in some shape 
was necessary. The country was sparsely settled, with 
no magistrates or civil authorities who could respond to 
requisitions, as is done in all the wars of Europe: so that 



492 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sherman 

this system of foraging was simply indispensable to our 
success. By it our men were well supplied with all the 
essentials of life and health, while the wagons retained 
enough in case of unexpected delay, and our animals were 
well fed. Indeed, when we reached Savannah the trains 
were pronounced by experts to be the finest in flesh and 
appearance ever seen with any army. 

Habitually each corps followed some main road, and the 
foragers, being kept out on the exposed flank, served all 
the military uses of flankers. The main columns gathered, 
by the roads travelled, much forage and food, chiefly meat, 
corn, and sweet potatoes, and it was the duty of each 
division and brigade quartermaster to fill his wagons as 
fast as the contents were issued to the troops. The wagon- 
trains had the right to the road always, but each wagon 
was required to keep closed up, so as to leave no gaps in 
the column. If for any purpose any wagon or group of 
wagons dropped out of place, they had to wait for the 
rear. And this was always dreaded, for each brigade 
commander wanted his train up at camp as soon after 
reaching it with his men as possible. 

I have seen much skill and industry displayed by these 
quartermasters on the march, in trying to load their wagons 
with corn and fodder by the way without losing their place 
in column. They would, while marching, shift the loads 
of wagons, so as to have six or ten of them empty. Then, 
riding well ahead, they would secure possession of certain 
stacks of fodder near the road, or cribs of corn, leave some 
men in charge, then open fences and a road back for a 
couple of miles, return to their trains, divert the empty 
wagons out of column, and conduct them rapidly to their 
forage, load up and regain their place in column without 
losing distance. On one occasion I remember to have 
seen ten or a dozen wao-ons thus loaded with corn from 



Sherman] SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA. 493 

two or three full cribs, almost without halting. These 
cribs were built of logs, and roofed. The train-guard, by 
a lever, had raised the whole side of the crib a foot or 
two ; the wagons drove close alongside, and the men in 
the cribs, lying on their backs, kicked out a wagon-load 
of corn in the time I have taken to describe it. 

In a well-ordered and well-disciplined army these things 
might be deemed irregular, but I am convinced that the 
ingenuity of these younger officers accomplished many 
things far better than I could have ordered, and the 
marches were thus made, and the distances were accom- 
plished, in the most admirable way. Habitually we 
started from camp at the earliest bi-eak of dawn, and 
usually reached camp soon after noon. The marches 
varied from ten to fifteen miles a day, though sometimes 
on extreme flanks it was necessary to make as much as 
twentj' ; but the rate of travel was regulated by the 
wagons ; and, considering the natui*e of the roads, fifteen 
miles per day was deemed the limit. 

The pontoon-trains were in like manner distributed in 
about equal proportions to the four corps, giving each a 
section of about nine hundred feet. The pontoons were 
of the skeleton pattern, with cotton-canvas covers, each 
boat, with its proportion of balks and chesses, constituting 
a load for one wagon. By uniting 'two such sections to- 
gether, we could make a bridge of eighteen hundred feet, 
enough for any river we had to traverse ; but habitually 
the leading brigade would, out of the abundant timber, 
improvise a bridge before the pontoon-train could come 
up, unless in the case of rivers of considerable magnitude, 
such as the Ocmulgee, Oconee, Ogeechee, Savannah, etc. 

[On the 20th of November, Sherman stopped at a plantation man- 
sion which, by chance, he discovered to be that of Howell Cobb, 
Secretary of the Treasury in Buchanan's Cabinet, and at that time a 
II. 42 



494 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sherman 

general in the Confederate army. Here, contrary to his usual custom, 
he ordered that nothing should be spared : the fence-rails were destroyed 
for camp-fires, and an immense quantity of corn and provisions of all 
sorts was carried off. 

While the left wing was marching in this direction, General Howard, 
with the right wing, was advancing towards Macon, which he reached 
on the 22d, driving before him the Confederate forces that endeavored 
to hold the town.] 

Bj" the 23cl I was in Milledg&ville with the left wing, 
and was in full communication with the right wing at 
Grordon. The people of Milledgeville remained at home, 
except the Governor (Brown), the State officers, andXiegis- 
lature, who had ignominiously fled, in the utmost disorder 
and confusion ; standing not on the order of their going, 
but going at once, — some by rail, some by carriages, and 
many on foot. Some of the citizens who remained behind 
described this flight of the " brave and patriotic" Governor 
Brown. He had occupied a public building known as the 
" Governor's Mansion," and had hastily stripped it of car- 
pets, curtains, and furniture of all sorts, which were re- 
moved to a train of freight-cars, which carried away these 
things, — even the cabbages and vegetables from his kitchen 
and cellar, — leaving behind muskets, ammunition, and the 
public archives. On my arrival at Milledgeville I occupied 
the same public mansion, and was soon overwhelmed with 
appeals for protection. General Slocum had previously 
arrived with the Twentieth Corps, had taken up his quar- 
ters at the Milledgeville Hotel, established a good provost- 
guard, and excellent order was maintained. The most 
frantic appeals had been made by the Governor and Legis- 
lature for help from every quarter, and the people of the 
State had been called out en masse to resist and destroy 
the invaders of their homes and firesides. Even the 
prisoners and convicts of the penitentiary were released 



Sherman] SHERMAN S MARCH TO THE SEA. 495 

on condition of serving as soldiers, and the cadets were 
taken from their military college for the same purpose. 
These constituted a small battalion, under General Harry 
Wayne, a former officer of the United States Army, and 
son of the then Justice Wayne of the Supreme Court. 
But these hastily retreated east across the Oconee Eiver, 
leaving us a good bridge, which we promptly secured. 

AtMilledgeville we found newspapers from all the South, 
and learned the consternation which had filled the South- 
ern mind at our temerity ; many charging that we were 
actually fleeing for our lives and seeking safety at the 
hands of our fleet on the sea-coast. All demanded that 
we should be assailed, "front, flank, and rear;" that pro- 
visions should be destroyed in advance, so that we would 
starve ; that bridges should be burned, roads obstructed, 
and no mercy shown us. Judging from the tone of the 
Southern press of that day, the outside world must have 
supposed us ruined and lost. 

[Some of these appeals are curious. We give an example. 
" To the People of Georgia : 

" Arise for the defence of your native soil ! Rally around your 
patriotic Governor and gallant soldiers ! Obstruct and destroy all the 
roads in Sherman's front, flank, and rear, and his army will soon starve 
in your midst. Be confident. Be resolute. Trust in an overruling 
Providence, and success will crown your efforts. I hasten to join you 
in the defence of your homes and firesides. 

" G. T. Beauregard."] 

Of course we were rather amused than alarmed at these 
threats, and made light of the feeble opposition offered to 
our progress. Some of the officers (in the spirit of mis- 
chief) gathered together in the vacant Hall of Represen- 
tatives, elected a Speaker, and constituted themselves the 
Legislature of the State of Georgia ! A proposition was 
made to repeal the ordinance of secession, which was well 



496 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sherman 

debated, and resulted in its repeal by a fair vote ! I was 
not present at these frolics, but heard of them at the time, 
and enjoyed the joke. 

[The arsenal at Milledgeville was destroyed, with such other public 
buildings as could be used for hostile purposes, but all private property 
was spared. The right wing meanwhile continued its march along the 
railroad towards Savannah, destroying the ties and rails as it advanced. 
The cavalry was sent on a circuitous route to Millen, to rescue the 
prisoners of war confined there.] 

On the 24th we renewed the march, and I accompanied 
the Twentieth Corps, which took the direct road to San- 
dersville, which we reached simultaneously with the Four- 
teenth Corps, on the 26th. A brigade of i-ebel cavalry 
was deployed before the town, and was driven in and 
through it by our skirmish-line. I myself saw the rebel 
cavalrj" apply fire to stacks of fodder standing in the fields 
at Sandersville, and gave orders to burn some unoccupied 
dwellings close by. On entering the town, I told certain 
citizens (who would be sure to spread the report) that, if 
the enemy attempted to cany out their threat to burn 
their food, fodder, and corn in our route, I would most 
undoubtedly execute to the letter the general orders of 
devastation made at the outset of the campaign. With 
this exception, and one or two minor cases near Savannah, 
the people did not destroy food, for they saw clearly that 
it would be ruin to themselves. 

At Sandersville I halted the left wing until I heard that 
the right wing was abreast of us on the railroad. During 
the evening a negro was brought to me who had that day 
been to the station (Tenille) about six miles south of the 
town. I inquired of him if there were any Yankees there, 
and he answered, " Yes." He described in his own way 
what he had seen. " First, there come along some cavahy- 
men, and they burned the depot ; then come along some 



Shkrman] SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA. 497 

infantry-men, and tbey tore xip the track, and burned it ;" 
and just before be left tbey bad " sot fire to the well" 

The next morning, viz., the 27tb, I rode down to the 
station, and found General Corse's division (of the Fifteenth 
Corps) engaged in destroying the railroad, and saw the 
well which my negro informant had seen " burnt." It was 
a square pit about twenty-five feet deep, boarded up, with 
wooden steps leading to the bottom, wherein was a fine 
copper pump, to lift the water to a tank above. The sol- 
diers had broken up the pump, heaved in the steps and 
lining, and set fire to the mass of lumber in the bottom 
of the well, which corroborated the negro's description. 

[On the 3d of December Millen was reached, the army being yet in 
excellent condition, its wagons full of forage and provisions. Two- 
thirds of the distance to Savannah had been traversed. The remainder 
lay through a more sandy and barren country, where food was scarce, 
yet Sherman determined to push on for that city.] 

General Hardee was ahead, between us and Savannah, 
with McLaws' division, and other irregular troops, that 
could not, I felt assured, exceed ten thousand men. I 
caused the fine depot at Millen to be destroyed, and other 
damage done, and then resumed the march directly on 
Savannah, by the four main roads. The Seventeenth 
Corps (General Blair) followed substantially the railroad, 
and, along with it, on the 5th of December I i-eached 
Ogeechee Church, about fifty miles from Savannah, and 
found there fresh earthworks, which had been thrown up 
by McLaws' division ; but he must have seen that both his 
flanks were being turned, and prudently retreated to Sa- 
vannah without fight. All the columns then pursued 
leisurely their march toward Savannah, corn and forage 
becoming more and more scarce, but rice-fields beginning 
to occur along the Savannah and Ogeechee Eivers, which 
proved a good substitute, both as food and forage. The 
u.-gg 42* 



498 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sherman 

weather was fine, the roads good, and everything seemed 
to favor us. Never do I recall a more agreeable sensation 
than the sight of our camps by night, lit up by the fires 
of fragrant pine-knots. The trains were all in good order, 
and the men seemed to march their fifteen miles a day as 
though it were nothing. No enemy opposed us, and we 
could occasionally hear the faint reverberation of a gun to 
our left rear, where we knew that General Kilpatrick was 
skirmishing with Wheeler's cavalry, which persistently 
followed him. But the infantry columns had met with 
no opposition whatsoever. McLaws' division was falling 
back before us, and we occasionally picked up a few of 
his men as prisoners, who insisted that we would meet 
with strong opposition at Savannah. 

On the 8th, as I rode along, I found the column turned 
out of the main road, marching through the fields. Close 
by, in the corner of a fence, was a group of men standing 
around a handsome young officer, whose foot had been 
blown to pieces by a torpedo planted in the road. He 
Avas waiting for a surgeon to amputate his leg, and told 
me that he was riding along with the rest of his brigade- 
staff of the Seventeenth Corps, when a torpedo trodden 
on by his horse had exploded, killing the horse and liter- 
ally blowing off all the flesh from one of his legs. I saw 
the terrible wound, and made full inquirj- into the facts. 
There had been no resistance at that point, nothing to give 
warning of danger, and the rebels had planted eight-inch 
shells in the road, with friction-matches to explode them 
by being trodden on. This was not war, but murder, and 
it made me very angry. I immediately ordered a lot of 
rebel prisoners to be brought from the provost-guard, armed 
Avith picks and spades, and made them march in close 
order along the road, so as to explode their own torpedoes, 
or to discover and dig them uj^. The}' begged hard, but 



Sherman] SHERMAN S MARCH TO THE SEA. 499 

I reiterated the order, and could hardly help laughing at 
their stepping so gingerly along the road, whei'e ij: was 
supposed sunken torpedoes might explode at each step ; 
but they found no other torpedoes till near Fort McAllis- 
ter. That night we reached Pooler's Station, eight miles 
from Savannah, and during the next two days, December 
9 and 10, the several corps reached the defences of Savan- 
nah, — the Fourteenth Corps on the left, touching the river, 
the Twentieth Corps next, then the Seventeenth, and the 
Fifteenth on the extreme right; thus completely investing 
the city. 

[The conclusion of the story of Sherman's exploits may be given in 
epitome. After the investment of Savannah, communication was es- 
tablished between the army and the fleet, and preparations were made 
for an assault upon the city, which Hardee, the Confederate commander, 
had refused to surrender. This was avoided by an evacuation, and on 
the 22d of December Savannah was surrendered to the army of in- 
vasion, thus completing the remarkable expedition, which had crossed 
several hundred miles of a hostile country almost without loss or 
resistance. 

By the various operations described the field of the war had been 
reduced to the Atlantic States, between Savannah on the south and 
Kichmond on the north. Measures were at once taken to combine the 
armies of Sherman and Grant and crush out the remaining life of the 
Confederacy between their folds. It was Gh-ant's design to transport 
Sherman's army by sea, but Sherman proposed the more difficult but 
more effective measure of a march overland. This was agreed to, and 
on the 1st of February, 1865, another long march through the heart 
of a hostile territory began. It was intended, as before, to live on the 
country, and very little baggage was taken. The array was sixty 
thousand strong. Beauregard was in command of the opposing forces, 
but no strong opposition was encountered. On the 17th Columbia, 
the capital of South Carolina, was reached and occupied. The city 
was burned. Wade Hampton, in command of the retreating Confed- 
erate cavalry, had set fire to a considerable quantity of cotton in the 
streets, and, in his efforts to destroy this, destroyed the city. Sherman 
had given orders to burn all public buildings, but the efforts of his 



500 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Long 

soldiers were vainly directed to check the conflagration started by the 
enemy. 

On the next day Charleston, which had so long and so gallantly 
defended itself from assault by sea, fell without a blow in its defence, 
and the birthplace of the rebellion was once more in Union hands. It 
suffered as severely from its friends as Columbia had done. General 
Hardee, who commanded in that city, with fourteen thousand men, 
hastily retreated, lest he should be caught in a trap, as Pemberton had 
been at Vicksburg. Before doing so he set fire to every building con- 
taining cotton. Fire communicated from this to powder scattered in 
the street, and a train of flame ran to the powder-magazine, which 
blew up with a fearful explosion. Two hundred people were instantly 
killed, and a great portion of the city was burned. 

On the 8th of March the southern boundary of North Carolina was 
crossed, and that State entered. On the 11th Fayetteville was taken. 
Beauregard was now relieved, and Johnston again appointed to the 
command of the Confederate army. It was necessary to move more 
cautiously against this experienced commander. Several engagements 
took place, but the advance continued, and a line of occupation from 
Bentonville to Goldsborough was established by the 21st. The army 
had been reinforced by Schofield's corps from the West, with other 
reinforcements, and was now one hundred thousand strong. Having 
rested and refitted, Sherman's army marched again on April 10, de- 
stroying the railroad as it went. On the 14th the hostile march ended, 
news being received from the North that put an end to all further 
hostilities. General Lee had surrendered, and the war was at an end.] 



THE LAST MARCH OF LEE'S ARMY. 

ARMISTEAD L. LONG. 

[We have now a highly important series of events to cover in rapid 
epitome, comprising the doings of the armies in Virginia from the 
date of the battle of Gettysburg to the surrender of Lee's army, and 
embracing in particular the stirring scenes of war which followed 
Grant's assumption of the command of the Army of the Potomac. 
Important as many of these events were, no one of them except the 



LOKG] THE LAST MARCH OF LEE'S ARMY. 501 

closing event stands out prominently as of decisive value, and lack of 
space prevents us from giving any of the battle-scenes in detail, obliging 
us to review briefly that great chapter in the history of the war which 
reached its culmination in the surrender of Lee's army and the collapse 
of the Confederacy. 

After the battle of Gettysburg the year 1863 passed without an en- 
gagement between the two armies in Virginia. Lee, after crossing the 
Potomac, retired behind the line of the Kapidan. Meade massed his 
army at "Warrenton. In October Lee made a rapid advance to the old 
battle-ground of Manassas. But if he hoped to take his antagonist by 
surprise he was mistaken : Meade was too quick for him, and he was 
forced to retreat hastily. In November Meade retaliated with an 
equally rapid advance, hoping to surprise Lee in his lines at Mine 
Kun. This effort also ended in failure: Lee concentrated his army, 
and Meade retired without a battle. Late in the winter a cavalry ex- 
pedition under Kilpatrick sought to take Richmond by surprise. It 
failed, and nothing further was done till the spring of 1864. 

Grant's victorious career in the West had now made him the most 
prominent figure in the Union armies, and on March 9, 1864, he was 
placed in command of all the forces in the field, with the high grade 
of lieutenant-general, which had been held by no one since Washing- 
ton, Scott holding this rank only by brevet. He at once appointed 
Sherman to the command of the Western armies, and took command 
in person of the Army of the Potomac. It was designed that all the 
armies should work thenceforward strictly in conjunction. On May 1 
Grant opposed Lee with a foi'ce estimated at one hundred and forty 
thousand to his sixty thousand. A simultaneous movement was de- 
signed, and on May 4 Grant advanced towards the Rapidan, while 
Butler, with twenty thousand men, moved from Fortress Monroe up 
the south side of the James ; and on the 6th Sherman advanced from 
Chattanooga. 

Lee was found in line of battle in the difficult region of the Wilder- 
ness, the scene of the previous desperate battle of Chancellorsville. A 
terrible engagement ensued, which continued throughout the 5th and 
6th of May. It was a confused and sanguinary struggle, in the depths 
of a tangled thicket, in which Grant lost more than twenty thousand 
men, five thousand of whom were taken prisoners. The Confederates 
lost ten thousand. Neither side could claim a victory. 

Reconnoissances now showed that Lee had intrenched his army, and 
that a renewed attack must result in very serious losses. On the night 



502 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Long 

of the 7th, therefore, Grant began a secret flanking march upon Spott- 
sylvania Court-House. Lee discovered the movement, and, having 
the shortest line, reached Spottsylvania first. "Warren, in the advance, 
had a severe fight in gaining his designated point. For several days 
the armies faced each other, in busy preparation. On the 10th Grant 
assailed the Confederate lines. A severe battle took place, resulting 
in no substantial advantage, while the losses on both sides were very 
heavy. Early on the morning of the 12th the conflict was renewed. 
Hancock made a sudden charge on Lee's right, captured the intrench- 
ments, and took three thousand prisoners. A desperate battle followed, 
the Confederates retiring to an interior line of breastworks, which were 
vigorously defended, and held to the end of the day. So far neither 
army could claim a victory, while the losses on both sides had been 
enormous, — the Union loss being the greatest, from the fact that the 
Confederates were fighting on the defensive, and most of the time 
behind strong works. 

Heavy rains prevented operations during the few succeeding days. 
On the 19th Grant received reinforcements from Washington, and, 
deeming the lines at Spottsylvania too strong to be taken, he prepared 
for a night march to the North Anna River. This began on the night 
of the 21st. Lee penetrated the design, and, having the shorter line, 
succeeded in again outmarching his opponent. A battle took place 
here on the 23d, Grant having to force the passage of the river in the 
face of the enemy. The conflict was much less sanguinary than those 
preceding it, but, as Lee's position proved impregnable, Grant gave 
orders for another flanking march. Sheridan, who had been sent on a 
cavalry raid to cut Lee's lines of communication, rejoined the army on 
the 2-5th, having inflicted much damage, threatened Richmond, and 
killed the ablest Confederate cavalry leader. General J. E. B. Stuart. 

On the night of May 26 another effort to turn Lee's right was made 
by a rapid march towards Richmond. Some fighting took place on 
the 30th, and on the 31st Cold Harbor, in the vicinity of the previous 
battle of Gaines's Mill, was reached. Here Grant made a fourth 
vigorous effort to overthrow Lee, who, as before, faced him with in- 
trenched lines. An assault was made at five p.m. on the 1st of June, 
with some success, yet without breaking Lee's second line. On the 
morning of the 3d an advance of the whole army was ordered, and a 
desperate and sanguinary struggle took place. Despite every effort, 
Lee's lines remained unbroken, — Grant losing seven thousand men to 
Lee's three thousand. 



Long] THE LAST MARCH OF LEE'S ARMY. 503 

This ended the engagements in the field. Tiie task of heating Lee 
by open fighting had proved too murderous, the Union loss being very 
considerably greater than that of the Confederates. Grant now deter- 
mined on siege-operations, and decided to move his army south of the 
James, at Bermuda Hundred, then held by Butler. This gave him a 
water basis of supplies, and he was not troubled by that nightmare of 
covering Washington which had weakened the efforts of all previous 
commanders. In the campaign up to this time he had lost over fiftj^- 
four thousand men, Lee about thirty-two thousand. Grant's army, 
including Butler's, was now about one hundred and fifty thousand 
men, Lee's about seventy thousand. These numbers are taken from 
Draper's " Civil War." 

Immediately after crossing, a dash was made on Petersburg, in 
the hope of taking it before Lee could strengthen its garrison. The 
effort ended in failure, through lack of sufficient celerity of movement. 
Grant lost about nine thousand men in this unlucky enterprise. Both 
sides now began to intrench, and there gradually arose that wonderful 
series of earthworks which eventually stretched for many miles both 
north and south of the James, from the vicinity of Kichmond to and 
beyond Petersburg, and behind which the opposing armies lay facing 
each other for nearly a j^ear. 

During the period of these operations important events had taken 
place in the Shenandoah Valley. Sigel had entered the Valley on May 
1, but was defeated by Breckinridge on the 15th. Hunter succeeded 
Sigel, and completely routed Breckinridge at Piedmont. He now ad- 
vanced upon Lynchburg, devastating the country as he went, but 
was compelled to retreat before a strong force which Lee had sent to 
oppose him. This Confederate success was followed by movements of 
great importance. General Early, with twenty thousand men, made 
a rapid march northward through the Valley, reaching Winchester 
on the 3d of July, and Hagerstown, Maryland, on the 6th. He then 
moved boldly upon Washington, defeating General Wallace on the 
Monocacy, and reaching a point within six miles of the Capital on the 
evening of the 10th. An immediate assault might have given him 
possession of the city, which was weakly defended. But he delayed 
fer a day, and the arrival of two corps secured the city and forced 
Early to retreat hastily. He regained the Valley with his spoils, de- 
feated General Crook at Kernstown, and sent a cavalry party into 
Pennsylvania, which burned the town of Chambersburg in reprisal 
for Hunter's depredations in the Valley. 



504 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Long 

On August 7 General Sheridan was assigned to the command of the 
forces opposing Early. No event of importance took place until Sep- 
tember 19, on which day Early was severely defeated on the Opequan, 
losing six thousand men, the Federal loss being about five thousand. 
Two days afterwards Early was again defeated at Eisher's Hill. Sheri- 
dan now marched up the Valley, destroying everything that could 
serve for army supplies. Supposing his foe to be helpless, Sheridan re- 
paired to Washington in October, to confer with the Secretary of "War 
about sending part of his army back to Grant. During his absence 
Early made a night attack on his army, which was then posted on the 
north side of Cedar Creek. The surprise was complete, the troops being 
routed at all points, and driven back in a confusion little short of a 
panic. The severity of the pursuit was somewhat reduced by the 
Confederates stopping to plunder the Union camp, and the broken 
brigades regained some degree of order. 

Then occurred that striking incident which has been so worthily 
celebrated in art and poetry, — Sheridan's ride fr.om Winchester. The 
commander had got to that point on his return to the army, and first 
learned of the rout of his troops by the appearance at the town of the 
most rapid of the fugitives. Instantl}' mounting his mettled war-horse, 
he rode with headlong speed to the field of battle, twenty miles away. 
His appearance on the field inspirited the depressed soldiers, while his 
cheering words put new life into their ranks. The lines were quickly 
re-formed, an advance was ordered, and to Early's surprise he found his 
victorious troops impetuously assailed by the recently broken host. 
His defeat was complete, his loss in killed, wounded, and prisoners 
enormous, and his army was so shattered that it was never able to take 
the field again. This definitely ended the war in the Valley. 

Before returning to the story of the siege of Petersburg some account 
of the operations of the navy is desirable. Among the most important 
of these was the attack of the iron-clad fleet on the harbor defences of 
Charleston. The powerful defensive batteries drove off" the iron-clads 
with the greatest ease, forcing them to retire to escape destruction. 
Approaches were now made by land batteries on Morris Island, but 
beyond the destruction of Fort Sumter no result of special value was 
attained. In April, 1864, the Confederate ram Albemarle came down 
the Koanoke Kiver, disabled several gunboats, and forced Fort Wessels 
to surrender. She was soon afterwards destroyed by a torpedo, exploded 
under her by Lieutenant Cushing. Of the nine powerful iron-clads 
constructed by the Confederate government during the war every one 



Long] THE LAST MARCH OF LEE'S ARMY. 505 

was destroyed or captured. The Atlanta was captured by the monitor 
Weehawken, at Savannah, after a fifteen-minutes' engagement. The 
Tennessee, built on the plan of the Merrimack, was captured in Mo- 
bile harbor, after being seriously injured by ramming with wooden 
vessels. At this place the brave Farragut again ran a series of strong 
forts with his fleet, himself standing exposed in the rigging as he 
received their fire. 

The final important naval event was the capture of Fort Fisher, 
which covered the channel leading to "Wilmington, North Carolina, 
the only port now attainable by blockade-runners. In December, 1864, 
a combined land and water expedition was sent against the fort, ac- 
companied by a boat stored with two hundred and fifteen tons of gun- 
powder, by the explosion of which near the fort it was hoped that its 
walls might be shattered. This proved a failure. The powder-boat 
was exploded without doing the slightest damage. The fleet then at- 
tacked the fort, whose guns were silenced. But General Butler, who 
commanded the land force, would not make an assault, and the expe- 
dition returned unsuccessful. Another expedition, under General 
Terry, was sent in January. The bombardment by the fleet continued 
for several days, after which, on the 15th, a land assault was made, 
and the fort taken, after a severe struggle. This event completely 
closed the Confederacy from the outside world. The blockade was 
finally made fully eff'ective. 

Yet there was a Confederate navy, whose ships had never entered a 
Southern port, but which managed to commit great depredations upon 
American shipping. It was composed of vessels built abroad and sold 
to the Confederates, one of them in France, the remainder in England. 
Two powerful rams were built for this purpose in England, but were 
detained when Minister Adams plainly hinted at war if they were 
suffered to escape. Of the Confederate vessels which were permitted 
to sail from British harbors, much the most important was the Ala- 
bama. This vessel was a virtual pirate, which lured its victims by 
flying the British flag until they were within its power. It did great 
damage to American shipping. Finally the Alabama was encountered 
by the sloop-of-war Kearsarge, oft" the harbor of Cherbourg, France. 
A severe battle ensued, in which the Alabama was dreadfully shattered 
and finally sunk. During her career she had captured sixty-five ves- 
sels, most of which she burned. The loss occasioned was afterwards 
charged upon England, by the decision of an International Commis- 
sion, and paid in accordance with the verdict. 
II, — w 43 



506 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Long 

"We have one further series of events to review, — those attending the 
siege of Petersburg by Grant, and its defence by Lee. The first im- 
portant event of that siege was Grant's attempt to seize the Weldon 
Eailroad, on June 21, 1864. This was repulsed, with a loss of four 
thousand men. Immediately afterwards a cavalry expedition was sent 
to cut the railroads south of Kichmond. It was driven back with loss, 
after doing some damage, which was quickly repaired. The next im- 
portant event was the attempt to destroy the Confederate works by a 
mine. This was excavated with great labor, and exploded on the 
morning of July 30. A deep gap was blown through the works, but 
the subsequent assault was so completely mismanaged that the Confed- 
erates had hours in which to bring up troops and batteries. As a result 
the charging column was repulsed, with heavy loss, and Petersburg 
saved. On August 12 a demonstration in force was made againot 
Richmond, north of the James, and advantage taken of the concentra- 
tion of Confederate troops in that direction, to assail the defenders of 
the Weldon Eailroad. This road was taken, and efi'ectually ruined. 
On the 29th another assault was made north of the James, and Fort 
Harrison, one of the Confederate earthworks, taken. These operations 
had been attended with serious losses, with but little compensating 
advantage. 

The next purpose in Grant's operations was the destruction of the 
Southside Eaih'oad, with the eventual intention to assail the Danville 
Eoad, the main line of communication between Eichmond and the 
South. During the remainder of the season, however, very little was 
done. A severe engagement took place at Hatcher's Eun, in a move- 
ment towards the Southside Eailroad. The affair ended in a Union 
withdi'awal. Butler's effort to dig a canal across Dutch Gap, a point 
where the James makes a wide bend, proved useless, and the armies 
settled down to an autumn and winter rest. 

Active operations began again in March, Grant having then about 
one hundred and twenty thousand men. Lee's actual number is not 
well known. On February 5, 1865, an attempt had been made to turn 
Lee's lines at Hatcher's Eun, which was repulsed, with loss. The only 
offensive movement of Lee during this long siege was made on March 
25, an early morning attack being directed against Fort Steadman, 
near the site of the mine. The surprise was complete, and the fort 
taken. But its holders were at once assailed from all sides, and driven 
out, with a loss of three thousand out of the five thousand engaged. 

The final movement of the Union armv began on March 29. Ou 



Long] THE LAST MARCH OF LEE'S ABMF. 507 

the SOth Sheridan advanced on Five Forks, a point below Lee's line 
of intrenchments, and three miles from the Southside Kailroad. Lee 
concentrated a strong force against him, weakening his lines in doing 
so. Sheridan had taken possession of Five Forks, but was driven 
back. He advanced again on April L Grant, finding that Lee had 
weakened his line of defence, directed a charge in force to be made by 
the Fifth Corps upon the Confederate works. It proved successful : 
the deferfsive line was broken, two thousand five hundred prisoners 
were captured, and the fugitives pushed with remorseless energy. On 
April 2 the final assault was made, and Petersburg captured. Nothing 
was left for Lee but flight or surrender. He chose the former, and on 
the night of April 2 began a rapid retreat from the lines he had so 
long and so gallantly held. The story of that retreat we extract from 
" The Meraoii-s of Robert E. Lee," by General A. L. Long.] 

Along the north bank of the Appomattox moved the 
long lines of artillery and dark columns of infantry 
through the gloom of the night, over the roads leading 
to Amelia Court-House, By midnight the evacuation was 
completed, and a death-like silence reigned in the breast- 
works which for nine months had been "clothed in thun- 
der," and whose deadly blows had kept at bay a foe of 
threefold strength. 

As the troops moved noiselessly onward in the darkness 
that just precedes the dawn, a bright light like a broad 
flash of lightning illumined the heavens for an instant ; 
then followed a tremendous explosion. " The magazine 
at Fort Drewry is blown up," ran in whispers through the 
ranks, and again silence reigned. Once more the sky was 
overspread by a lurid light, but not so fleeting as before. 
It was now the conflagration of Eichmond that lighted 
the night-march of the soldiers, and many a stout heart 
was wrung with anguish at the fate of the city and its 
defenceless inhabitants. The burning of public property 
of little value had given rise to a destructive fire that laid 
in ashes nearly one-third of the devoted city. 



508 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Long 

The columns from Petersburg and its vicinity reached 
Chesterfield Court-IIouse soon after daj'light. Here a 
brief halt was ordered for the rest and refreshment of the 
troops, after which the retreat was resumed with renewed 
strength. A sense of relief seemed to pervade the ranks 
at their release from the lines where they had watched 
and worked for more than nine weary months. Once 
more in the open field, they were invigorated with hope, 
and felt better able to cope with their powerful adver- 
sary. 

The April woods were budding round them, the odors 
of spring were in the air, the green fields and the broad 
prospect of woods and hills formed an inspiriting contrast 
to the close earthworks behind which they had so long 
lain, and as they marched along the unobstructed roads 
memories of the many victories to which they had for- 
merly been led arose to nerve their arms and make them 
feel that while they had the same noble chieftain at their 
head they were still the equal of the foe. Thoughts like 
these lightened the weary march and gave new spirit to 
the ragged and hungry but undaunted men. 

The retreat of Lee's army did not long remain unknown 
to the Federals. The explosion of the magazine at Fort 
Drewry and the conflagration of Richmond apprised them 
of the fact, and they lost no time in taking possession of 
the abandoned works and entering the defenceless cities. 

On the morning of the 3d of April the mayor of Rich- 
mond surrendered the city to the Federal commander in 
its vicinity, and General "Weitzel took immediate posses- 
sion. He at once proceeded to enforce order and took 
measures to arrest the conflagration, while with great 
humanity he endeavored to relieve the distressed citizens. 
After four 3-ears of courageous sacrifice and patriotic de- 
votion, the city of Richmond was compelled to yield to 



Long] THE LAST MARCH OF LEE'S ARMY. 509 

the decree of fate and bow her proud crest to the victor. 
But she felt no shame or disgrace, for her defence had 
been bold and chivalrous, and in the hour of her adversity 
her majestic fortitude drew from her conquerors respect 
and admiration. 

As soon as Grant became aware of Lee's line of retreat, 
he pushed forward his whole available force, numbering 
seventy thousand or eighty thousand men, in order to in- 
tercept him on the line of the Eichmond and Danville 
Eailroad. Sheridan's cavalry formed the van of the pur- 
suing arni}^, and was closely followed by the artillery and 
infantry. Lee pressed on as rapidly as possible to Amelia 
Court-House, where he had ordered supplies to be depos- 
ited for the use of his troops on their arrival. This fore- 
thought was highly necessary in consequence of the scanty 
supply of rations provided at the commencement of the 
retreat. 

The hope of finding a supply of food at this point, which 
had done much to buoy up the spirits of the men, was 
destined to be cruelly dispelled. Through an unfortunate 
error or misapprehension of orders, the provision-train 
had been taken on to Eichmond without unloading its 
stores at Amelia Court-House, and its much-needed food 
disappeared during the excitement and confusion of the 
capital city. As a result, on reaching that point not a 
single ration was found to be provided for the hungry 
troops. 

It was a terrible blow alike to the men and to their gen- 
eral. A reaction from hope to despair came upon the brave 
soldiers who had so far borne up under the most depress- 
ing difficulties, while on General Lee's face came a deeper 
shadow than it had yet worn. He saw his well-devised 
plan imperilled by a circumstance beyond his control. 
The necessity of speed if he would achieve the aim which 
11. 43* 



510 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Long 

he had in his mind was opposed by the absolute need of 
halting and collecting food for his impoverished troops. 
Grant was pursuing him with all haste. The only chance 
remaining to the Army of Northern Virginia was to reach 
the hill-country without delay. Yet here it was detained 
by the error of a railroad official, while the precious min- 
utes and hours moved remorselessly by. 

By the morning of the 5th the whole army had reached 
the place of genei'al rendezvoxis. Bitter was its disappoint- 
ment to learn that no food was to be had save such scanty 
quantities as might be collected by the foraging-parties 
that had immediately been sent out, and that a distance 
of fifty miles lay between it and adequate supplies. Yet 
no murmur came from the lips of the men to the ear of 
'jheir commander, and on the evening of that unfortunate 
day they resumed their weary march in silence and com- 
posure. Some small amount of food had been brought in 
by the foragers, greatly inadequate for the wants of the 
soldiers, yet aiding them somewhat to alleviate the pangs 
of hunger. A handful of corn was now a feast to the 
weary veterans as they trudged onward through the April 
night. . . . 

The progress of the retreat during the night was slow 
and tedious, the route for the most part lying through 
farms and over farm-lands, whose condition frequently 
demanded the aid of pioneers to construct and repair 
bridges and causeways for the ai'tillery and wagons, the 
teams of which by this time had become weak and jaded. 
The country roads were miry from the spring rains, the 
streams were swollen, and the numerous wagons which 
Avere necessary to transport the munitions of war from 
Eichmond to a new line of defence served to retard the 
retreat and permit the Federals to rapidly gain uQon the 
slow-marchinsf columns. 



LoxG] THE LAST MARCH OF LEES ARMY. 511 

Sheridan's cavalry was alread}^ upon the flank of the 
Confederate army, and the infantry was following with 
all speed. On the morning of the 6th a wagon-train fell 
into the hands of Sheridan's troopers, but this was recap- 
tured by the Confederates. During the forenoon of that 
da}' the pursuing columns thickened, and frequent skir- 
mishes delayed the march. These delays enabled the 
Federals to accumulate in such force that it became neces- 
sary for Lee to halt his advance in order to arrest their 
attack till his column could close up and the trains and 
such artillery as was not needed for action could reach a 
point of safety. 

This object was accomplished early in the afternoon. 
Ewell's. the rearmost corps of the army, closed upon those 
in front at a position on Sailor's Creek, a small tributary 
of the Appomattox Eiver. While the trooj)8 were moving 
to their destination, and the trains had passed. General 
Gordon, who commanded the rear-guard, observing a con- 
siderable Federal force moving around the Confederate 
rear, apparently with the intention of turning it, sent 
notice of this movement to the troops in front, and then 
proceeded by a near route to a suitable jDOsition on the 
line of retreat. 

Ewell. unfortunately, either failed to receive Gordon's 
message or his troops were so Avorn out with hunger and 
fatigue as to be dilatory in complying with orders. As 
a consequence, his coi'ps was surrounded by the pursuing 
columns and captured with but little opposition. About 
the same time the divisions of Anderson, Pickett, and 
Bushrod Johnson were almost broken up, about ten thou- 
sand men in all being captured. The remainder of the 
army continued its retreat during the night of the 6th, 
and reached Farmville early on the morning of the 7th, 
where the troops obtained two days' rations, the first 



512 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Long 

regular supplies they bad received during the retreat. At 
Farmville a short halt was made to allow the men to rest 
and cook their provisions. . . . 

The heads of the Federal columns beginning to appear 
about eleven o'clock, the Confederates resumed their re- 
treat. The teams of the wagons and artillery were weak, 
being travel-worn and suffering from lack of forage. Their 
progress, therefore, was necessarily slow, and, as the troops 
were obliged to move in conformity with the artillery and 
trains, the Fedei-al cavalry closed upon the retreating 
army. In the afternoon it became necessary to make dis- 
positions to retard the rapid advance of the enemy. Ma- 
hone's division, with a few batteries, was thrown out for 
that purpose, and a spirited conflict ensued, in which the 
Federals were checked. Other attempts were made during 
the afternoon to retard or arrest the Confederate columns, 
which in every instance were repulsed. . . . 

Desperate as the situation had become, and irretrievable 
as it seemed hourly growing, General Lee could not forego 
the hope of breaking through the net that was rapidly 
enclosing him and of forming a junction with Johnston. 
In the event of success in this he felt confident of being 
able to manoeuvre with Grant at least until favorable terms 
of peace could be obtained. 

A crisis was now at hand. Should Lee obtain the neces- 
sary supplies at Appomattox Court-House, he would push 
on to the Staunton Eiver and maintain himself behind 
that stream until a junction could be made with Johnston. 
If, however, supplies should fail him, the surrender and 
viissolution of the army were inevitable. On the 8th the 
rotreat, being uninterrupted, progressed more expeditiously 
than on the previous day. Yet, though the Federals did 
not press the Confederate flank and rear as on the day 
before, a heavy column of cavahy advanced upon Appo- 



Long] THE LAST MARCH OF LEE'S ARMF. 513 

mattox Station, where the supplies for the Confederate- 
army had been deposited. 

On the preceding day a correspondence had begun be- 
tween the two commanding generals, opening in the fol- 
lowing note sent by General Grant to General Lee: 

" Head-Quarters Armies of the U.S., 
"5 p.m., April 7, 1865. 
" General E. E. Lee, commanding C.S.A. 

" General, — The results of the last week must convince 
you of the hopelessness of further resistance on the part 
of the Army of Northern Virginia in this struggle. I 
feel that it is so, and regard it as my duty to shift from 
myself the responsibility of any further effusion of blood, 
by asking of you the surrender of that portion of the 
Confederate Southern army known as the Army of I^orth- 
ern Virginia. 

" Very respectfully, 

" Your obedient servant, 

" U. S. Grant, 
"Lieuteyiant- General commanding Armies of the U.S." 

To which General Lee replied, — 

" April 7, 186.5. 
" General, — I have received your note of this day. 
Though not entertaining the opinion you express on the 
hopelessness of further resistance on the part of the Army 
of Northern Virginia, I reciprocate your desire to avoid 
useless effusion of blood, and therefore, before considering 
your proposition, ask the terms you will offer on condition 
of its surrender. 

" E. E. Lee, 

" General. 
'• Lieutenaxt-Gexeral U. S. Grant, commanding the A7'mies of 
the United States." 
II.— AA 



51-1 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Long 

On the succeeding day General Grant returned the 
following reply : 

" April 8, 1865. 

" To General E. E. Lee, commanding C.S.A. 

" General, — Your note of the last evening, in reply to 
mine of the same date, asking the condition on which I 
will accept the surrender of the Army of Northern Yir- 
ginia, is just received. In rejjly I would say that, peace 
being my great desire, there is but one condition I would 
insist upon, — namely, that the men and officers surren- 
dered shall be disqualified for taking up arms again against 
the government of the United States until properly ex- 
changed. I will meet you, or will designate officers to 
meet any officers you might name for the same purpose, 
at any point agreeable to you, for the purpose of arranging 
definitely the terms upon which the surrender of the Army 
of Northern Virginia will be received. 

" U. S. Grant, 
^'Lieutenant- General." 

General Lee immediately responded : 

" April 8, 1865. 

" General, — I received at a late hour your note of to- 
day. In mine of yesterday I did not intend to propose 
the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia, but to 
ask the terms of your proposition. To be frank, I do not 
think the emergency has arisen to call for the surrender 
of this army, but, as the restoration of peace should be 
the sole object of all, I desired to know whether 3'our pro- 
posals would lead to that end. I cannot, therefore, meet 
you with a view to surrender the Army of Northern Vir- 
ginia, but as far as jonv proposal may affect the Confed- 
erate States forces under my command and tend to the 
restoration of peace, I should be pleased to meet you at 



Long] THE LAST MARCH OF LEE'S ARMY. 515 

ten A.M. to-morrow on the old stage-road to Eichmond, 

between the picket-lines of the two armies. 

" E. B. Lee, 
" General. 
" LiEUTEN ant-General Grant." 

When Lee in the afternoon reached the neighborhood 
of Appomattox Court-House, he was met by the intelli- 
gence of the capture of the stores placed for his army at 
the station two miles beyond. Notwithstanding this over- 
whelming news, he determined to make one more effort to 
force himself through the Federal toils that encompassed 
him. Therefore he made preparations for battle, but under 
circumstances more desperate than had hitherto befallen 
the Army of Northern Virginia. The remnant of that 
noble army, now reduced to ten thousand effective men, 
was marshalled to cut its way through a host seventy- 
five thousand strong ; but, notwithstanding the stupendous 
odds, there was not in that little band a heart that quailed 
or a hand that trembled ; there was not one of them who 
would not willingly have laid down his life in the cause 
they had so long maintained, and for the noble chief who 
had so often led them to victory. 

On the evening of that day the last council of the 
leaders of the Army of Northern Virginia was held 
around a bivouac-fire in the woods, there being present 
Generals Lee, Longstreet, Gordon, and Fitz Lee. This 
conference ended in a determination to make a renewed 
effort on the following morning to break through the im- 
pediments in front, of which there was still a possibility 
if only cavahy should be found and no heavy force of 
inftmtry had reached that point. 

At three o'clock on the morning of the 9th of April the 
Confederates moved silently forward. The advance under 
Gordon, reaching the heights a little beyond the court- 



516 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Long 

house at dawn, found that the route was obstructed by a 
large force of Federal cavalry. Gordon then deployed 
the Second Corps, now less than two thousand strong and 
supported by thirty pieces of artillery under General Long, 
with Fitz Lee's cavalry on the flank. 

This artillery consisted of parts of the commands of 
Colonel Carter, Lieutenant-Colonels Poague and Duke 
Johnston, and Major Stark, and the guns were served with 
the usual skill and gallantry. A well-directed fire from 
the artillerj^ and an attack from the cavalry quickly dis- 
lodged the force in front. Gordon then advanced, but was 
arrested by a greatly superior force of the enemy's in- 
fantry, whereupon he informed General Lee that a power- 
ful reinforcement was necessary to enable him to continue 
his advance. 

Lee being unable to grant that request, but one course 
remained. A flag of truce was sent to General Grant re- 
questing a suspension of hostilities for the ai'rangement 
of preliminaries of surrender. Then an order to cease 
firing passed along the lines. This order, on being received 
by General Long, was sent by him, through Major South- 
all and other members of his stafl", to the different bat- 
teries to direct them to discontinue firing. General Long 
then proceeded to the court-house. 

On reaching that point he discovered that the order had 
not been carried to a battery that occupied the hill imme- 
diatel}' above the village, which continued to fire rapidly 
at an advancing line of Federal infantry. He at once rode 
in person to the battery and gave the order to the captain 
to cease firing and to withdraw his battery to a point east 
of the town, where the artillery was ordered to be parked. 
These were the last shots fired by the Army of Northern 
Virginia. . . . 

The artillery had been withdrawn from the heights, as 



Long] THE LAST MARCH OF LEE'S ARMY. 517 

above stated, and parked in the small valley east of the 
village, while the infantry, who were formed on the left, 
stacked arms and silently waited the result of the inter- 
view between the opposing commanders. 

The flag of truce was sent out from General Gordon's 
lines. Grant had not yet come up, and while waiting for 
his arrival General Lee seated himself upon some rails 
which Colonel Talcott of the Engineers had fixed at the 
foot of an apple-tree for his convenience. This tree was 
half a mile distant from the point where the meeting of 
Lee and Grant took place, yet wide-spread currency has 
been given to the -story that the surrender took place 
under its shade, and "apple-tree" jewelry has been pro- 
fusely distributed from the orchard in which it grew. 

About eleven o'clock General Lee, accompanied only by 
Colonel Marshall of his staff, proceeded to the village to 
meet General Grant, who had now arrived. The meeting 
between the two renowned generals took place at the 
house of a Mr. McLean at Appomattox Court-House, to 
which mansion, after exchanging courteous salutations, 
they repaired to settle the terms on which the surrender 
of the Army of Northern Virginia should be concluded. 

A conversation here took place which General Grant, as 
he himself tells us, led to various subjects divergent from 
the immediate purpose of the meeting, talking of old army 
matters and comparing recollections with General Lee. 
As he says, the conversation grew so pleasant that he 
almost forgot the object of the meeting. 

General Lee was obliged more than once to remind him 
of this object, and it was some time before the terms of 
the surrender were written out. The written instrument 
of surrender covered the following points. Duplicate rolls 
of all the oflScers and men were to be made, and the oflS- 
cers to sign paroles for themselves and their men, all agree- 
II 44 



518 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Long 

ing not to bear arms against the United States unless regu- 
larly exchanged. The arms, artillery, and public property 
were to be turned over to an officer appointed to receive 
them, the officers retaining their side-arms and private 
horses and baggage. In addition to this, General Grant 
permitted every man of the Confedei-ate army who claimed 
to own a horse or mule to retain it for farming purposes, 
General Lee remarking that this would have a happy 
effect. As for the surrender by General Lee of his sword, 
a report of which has been widely circulated, General 
Grant disposes of it in the following words: "The much- 
talked-of surrendering of Lee's sword and my handing it 
back, this and much more that has been said about it is 
the purest romance." 

After completion of these measures General Lee re- 
marked that his men were badly in need of food, that 
they had been living for several days on parched corn ex- 
clusively, and requested rations and forage for twenty-five 
thousand men. These rations were granted out of the 
car-loads of Confederate provisions which had been stopped 
by the Federal cavalry. As for forage. Grant remarked 
that he was himself depending upon the country for that. 
The negotiations completed, General Lee left the house, 
mounted his horse, and rode back to head-quarters. 

It is impossible to describe the anguish of the troops 
when it was known that the surrender of the army was 
inevitable. Of all their trials, this was the greatest and 
hardest to endure. There was no consciousness of shame ; 
each heart could boast with honest pride that its duty had 
been done to the end, and that still unsullied remained its 
honor. . When, after his interview with Grant, General 
Lee again appeared, a shout of welcome instinctively ran 
through the army. But, instantly recollecting the sad 
occasion that brought him before them, their shouts sank 



Long] THE LAST MARCH OF LEE'S JiRMY. 519 

into silence, every hat was raised, and the bronzed facea 
of the thousands of grim warriors were bathed with teai's. 

As he rode slowly along the lines, hundreds of his de- 
voted veterans pressed around the noble chief, trying to 
take his hand, touch his person, or even lay a hand upon 
his horse, thus exhibiting for him their great affection. 
The general then, with head bare and tears flowing freely 
down his manly cheeks, bade adieu to the army. In a few 
words he told the brave men who had been so true in 
arms to return to their homes and become worthy citizens. 

Thus closed the career of the noble Army of Northern 
Virginia. 

[The surrender of Lee's army was followed, a few days afterwards, 
by that of General Johnston, and within a month all the armies of 
the Confederacy had laid down their arms and accepted the lenient 
terms proposed to General Lee. This leniency was soon in danger of 
being replaced by harsher measures. Two days after Lee's surrender 
an event occurred which stirred the North as no event of the war had 
done, an act of brutal violence, which, with a different people, might 
have led to deeds of bloody and terrible reprisal. This was the murder 
of President Lincoln, who was shot in a "Washington theatre by a 
frantic partisan of the South, eager for that infamous glory which has 
led in all ages to acts of destructive violence. Thus, by the pistol of 
an assassin, fell the man whose hand had guided the ship of state 
through all the perils of its dangerous way, and whose wise and judi- 
cious counsel and unbounded influence would have been of incalculable 
value in healing the wounds of the war. In the act of its pretended 
avenger the South lost its best friend, and a long period of divided 
counsels and bitter feeling was the direct consequence of this fatal 
blow.] 



520 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 

CHARLES MORRIS. 

With the close of the Civil War our selections from 
historians almost necessarily cease. During the more 
than twenty years that have elapsed since that period an 
abundance of historical material has accumulated, yet but 
little of this has been worked up into general history, and 
though there is much good literature extant upon the sub- 
ject, to quote from it would unduly extend the scope of 
our work, without commensurate benefit. We shall there- 
fore conclude with a concise statement of the more im- 
portant recent occurrences in American history, bringing 
our brief review of events down to date. 

Terrible as was the war into which the United States 
had been plunged, and immense as was the loss of life and 
treasure involved, it did not end without some compensa- 
tion for its cost and its horrors. The two disturbing ques- 
tions which gave rise to the conflict were definitively set- 
tled by the triumph of the government. Slavery was 
abolished : that most fruitful source of sectional dispute no 
longer existed to vex the minds of legislators and people. 
The doctrine of State rights, also, had been laid at rest. 
The country had entei*ed the war as a not very strongly 
united or clearl}^ defined confederation of States. It 
emerged as a powerful and much more homogeneous 
nation. The theory of the right of secession was not 
likely to be advanced again for many years to come. Other 
benefits had resulted from the conflict. The national 
banking system may be named as one of these. The 
finances of the country were placed on such a solid and 
secure basis as they had never before occupied. 

During the four years of the war the United States had 



Morris] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 



521 



performed an extraordinary labor. Beginning with the 
merest nucleus of an army and a navy, and with its ar- 
senals bare of war-material, it had in that time created an 
army of more than a million disciplined men, as thorough 
soldiers as ever trod the surface of this planet, and com- 
pletely supplied it with war-material of the most approved 
kind. It had revolutionized naval warfare, with its fleet 
of powerful iron-clads, and had brought into action guns of 
much greater calibre and longer range than ever before 
had been employed. Its feats of transportation, of rail- 
road building and destruction, of bridge-building, etc., 
were unprecedented in magnitude. " The Etowah bridge, 
six hundred and twenty -five feet long and seventy-five feet 
high, was built in six days; the Chattahoochee bridge, 
seven hundred and forty feet long and ninety feet high, 
was built in four and a half days." 

The task of the government had been no light one. It 
had an immense country to reduce to obedience. From 
the beginning to the end of the war its armies were con- 
stantly on the enemy's soil, and opposed to men as bold 
and brave as themselves, fighting for their homes and 
what they deemed their rights, with all the advantages 
of a posture of defence, and of the natural breastworks 
of rivers, mountain-chains, forests, and other checks to an 
invading army. It was not an open country, traversed by 
practicable roads, like the battle-grounds of Europe, but in 
great part a wild and difficult i-egion, of vast extent, and 
so strongly defended by nature as greatly to reduce the 
necessity of defence by art. History presents no parallel 
instance of a country of such dimensions and such char- 
acter, defended by a brave and abundant population, con- 
quered within an equally brief peri(>d of time. 

There is one important incident of American history 
which demands attention at this point. The outbreak of 
II. 44* 



522 AMERICAN HISTORY. [MoRRia 

the civil war was taken advantage of by France, England, 
and Spain, to send an allied expedition to Yera Cruz, with 
the ostensible purpose of enforcing the payment of the 
Mexican debt to those countries. But, as it soon appeared 
that France had other aims, her allies withdrew. In July, 
1863, the French entered the city of Mexico, and at once 
threw off the mask they had worn, proposing Maximilian, 
an Austrian prince, as a candidate for an imperial throne. 
The Mexican leaders who had aided the enterprise, with 
the expectation of gaining power for themselves, found 
that they had been tricked by their astute all}^ and that 
an empire with a foreign ruler was established in their 
country. 

This empire was destined to be of short duration. The 
American war ended in the triumph of the North, to the 
dismay and confusion of the French invaders, and at once 
the voice of the United States was heard, bidding, in no 
uncertain phrase, the French to withdraw from the land. 
Napoleon prevaricated and delayed, but he dared not re- 
sist. It was the alternative of war or withdrawal, and 
war with the United States just then was no desirable 
undertaking. The French troops were withdrawn, but 
Maximilian madl}^ remained. The necessary consequence 
followed. The Mexicans rose, besieged him, and captured 
him on May 15, 1867. He was tried by court-martial, was 
condemned to execution, and was shot on June 19, 1867. 
Thus disastrously ended the only attempt of European 
powers to control and to estabhsh monarchy in a repub- 
lican country of America. The Monroe doctrine had been 
proved to be more than an empty phrase. 

Within three hours after Abraham Lincoln expired, 
Andrew Johnson took the oath of office as the seven- 
teenth President of the United States. The Presidential 
life of Lincoln had been one long period of civil war. 



Morris] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 523 

That of his successor was destined to be one of political 
difficult}- and struggle, in which the war seemed trans- 
ferred from the nation to the government, and a bitter 
strife arose between Congi-ess and the President. The 
task of reconstruction of the conquered territory was no 
light one, and could hardly, in any case, have been achieved 
without some degree of controversy, but Johnson, who at 
first expressed himself in favor of severely punishing the 
rebellious States, soon placed himself squarely in opposi- 
tion to Congress. 

He declared that a State could not secede, and that none 
of the Southern States had actually been out of the Union, 
and took measures of reconstruction of which Congi'ess 
decidedly disapproved. Johnson's doctrine was ignored 
by a Congressional declaration that the seceding States 
actually were out of the Union, and could be readmitted 
only under terms prescribed by Congress. The Civil 
Eights Bill, which made negroes citizens of the United 
States, was enacted April 19, 1866. Shortly afterwards a 
fourteenth amendment to the Constitution was proposed, 
guaranteeing equal civil rights to all persons, basing i*epre- 
sentation on the number of actual voters, declaring that 
no compensation should be given for emancipated slaves, 
etc. This was adopted b}^ the requisite number of States, 
and became a part of the Constitution on Julj- 28, 1868. 

As the work of reconstruction proceeded, the breach 
between the President and Congress grew more decided. 
Bill after bill was passed over his veto, and finally, on the 
24th of February, 1868, the House passed a resolution, by 
a large majority, to impeach the President for '* high crimes 
and misdemeanors" in the conduct of his office. Of the 
acts of President Johnson on which this resolution was 
based, that of the removal of Secretary Stanton from his 
cabinet office was the most essential. It was in direct 



524 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

contravention of the Tenure of Office Act, which declared 
that no removal from office could be made without the 
consent of the Senate. Stanton protested against this 
removal, and was sustained in his protest by the Senate, 
yet was soon afterwards removed again by the President. 
This bi'ought the quarrel to a climax, and the impeach- 
ment proceedings immediately began. 

The impeachment trial continued until May, on the 16th 
of which month the final vote was taken. It resulted in 
a verdict of " not guilty." The excitement into which the 
country had been aroused gradually died away, and the 
" sober second thought" of the community sustained the 
action of the Senate, though for a time very bitter feeling 
prevailed. 

In pursuance of the " military act," the South, on March 
2, 1867, was divided into five districts and placed under 
military governors. These were made amenable only to 
the general of the arm3^ This form of government, and 
the exclusion of the better class of Southern citizens from 
civil duties, placed all power in the hands of an inferior 
body of the population, and of Northern men (contemptu- 
ously designated " carpet-baggers") who had gone South 
after the war in search of position and power. The actions 
of many of these men were little calculated to restore 
harmony between the two sections of the country. The 
difficulty was added to by the behavior of bands of South- 
ern reprobates and extremists, who, designating themselves 
the "Ku Klux Klan," rode about the country in disguise, 
and sought by acts of violence and outrage to intimidate 
the negroes and punish all who sympathized with thera. 

It was highl}' desirable that this transition state of 
affairs should come to an end, and the States be recon- 
Btructed with governments of their own. This was gradu- 
ally accomplished by their acceptance of the terms pro- 



Morris] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 525 

posed by Congress. By June, 1868, all but tbree of the 
seceded States had accepted the fourteenth amendment, 
and been readmitted to the Union. On the 4th of July of 
that year a proclamation of general amnesty was made, 
conveying pardon to all who had been engaged in the 
war except those actually under indictment for criminal 
offences. On February 27, 1869, a fifteenth amendment to 
the Constitution was proposed in Congress, which forbade 
the United States or any State to deny the right of suffrage 
to any person on account of race, color, or previous condi- 
tion of servitude. This was passed and submitted to the 
States, and was declared ratified by the requisite majority 
on March 30, 1870. Early in the same year the repre- 
sentatives of the three States still outstanding — Virginia, 
Mississippi, and Texas — were admitted to Congress, these 
States having accepted the Constitutional amendments. 
"With this admission the problem of reconstruction was 
completed, and the country resumed its normal condition, 
thouo-h with radical changes in its fundamental laws and 
the make-up of its voting population. 

During the interval covered by the political evolution 
here outlined, other events of great importance had taken 
place. These included the admission of two new States, — 
Nevada, which was accepted as a State in 1864, while the 
war was still pending ; and Nebraska, which was admitted 
in 1867. The history of Nevada presents features of par- 
ticular interest. At the date of its admission it was, 
though much below the requisite population for Congres- 
sional representation, growing so rapidly in consequence of 
its rich silver output, that no doubt was entertained of its 
soon reaching the standard of representation. This expec- 
tation has not been fulfilled. The production of silver has 
decreased, the State is almost destitute of agricultural and 
pastoral possibilities, and the population, which reached 



526 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

62^66 in 1880, decreased to 45,761 in 1890, or about 130,- 
000 below tbe present ratio of rej^resentation. Only one 
other State, Vermont, has decreased in population in the 
last decade, and that but slightly. In the year of the 
admission of Nebraska (1867) an addition of considerable 
importance was made to the territory of the United States 
in the acquisition of Alaska, which was purchased from 
Eussia for $7,200,000. While much of the 577,000 square 
miles of this territory is likely to continue useless, the 
value of its fisheries, furs, timber, and minerals very greatly 
exceeds its cost to the United States, and every new explo- 
ration yields a higher conception of its natural wealth. 

The period in which these political events were taking 
place was made notable by two industrial triumphs of the 
greatest importance. The first of these was the laying of 
an ocean telegraph cable. The earliest effort to connect 
the United States with Europe by telegraph was made 
in 1856. This cable parted. One was laid successfully 
in 1858, but it ceased to work after a few messages had 
been transmitted. Cyrus W. Field, the projector of the 
enterprise, continued his efforts, and after another failure, 
in 1865, succeeded in his difficult task in 1866. Afterwards 
the broken cable of 1865 was raised and spliced, and both 
wires were found to work admirably. Since that date 
several other cables have been laid across the Atlantic, and 
ocean cables have been extended between various other 
countries. 

The other event alluded to is the laying of the Central 
Pacific Eailroad. This, the greatest feat in railroad build- 
ing up to that time, was completed in 1869, the last spike 
being driven in May of that year, at Ogden, Utah. By it 
continuous railroad connection was made between New 
York and San Francisco, a distance of 3300 miles. More 
recently the Northern, the Southern, the Canadian, and 



Morris] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 527 

other Pacific Eailroads have been laid, and communication 
between all parts of the eastern and western seaboards 
of this countiy has been made easy and rapid. 

In the Presidential campaign of 1868 the Eepublican 
party nominated General Grant and Schuyler Colfiax for 
President and Vice-President, while the Democratic nomi- 
nees were Horatio Seymour and General Frank P. Blair. 
The Eepublican ticket was elected by a large majority. 
Of the events that occurred during this administration two 
were of the highest importance, the Chicago fire and the 
settlement of the Alabama claims. These claims arose 
from the ravages on American commerce committed during 
the war by the Alabama and other Confederate cruisers, 
which had been fitted out in English ports, and permitted 
to sail in disregard of the earnest protests of the United 
States minister to England. This default in international 
obligations produced such bitter feeling in this country 
that war might have resulted had not a peaceful means of 
settlement been found. The dispute was finally adjusted 
by arbitration, a board composed of commissioners from 
several nations meeting at Geneva, Switzerland, in 1872. 
The result of their deliberations was in favor of the United 
States, to whom was awarded £3,229,166 (about $15,700,- 
000), which sum Great Britain jjromptly paid. This event 
is of the highest interest, as being among the first settle- 
ments of a great international difficulty by the peaceful 
and economical method of arbitration instead of the costly 
and destructive one of war. Another question between 
the United States and England, that concerning the north- 
west boundary, was similarly adjusted, being submitted to 
the Emperor of Germany, who decided it in favor of the 
United States. 

During the night of October 8, 1871, there broke out in 
Chicago what became perhaps the most destructive con- 



528 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

flagration, in actual loss of wealth, that ever visited any 
city. High winds spread the flames, which found abun- 
dant fuel in the many wooden structures of the city, and 
they raged for three days, destroying property valued at 
two hundred millions of dollars. The ground burned over 
was four and a half miles long by one mile wide, while one 
hundred thousand people were left homeless, and two hun- 
dred lost their lives by this terrible disaster. About the 
same time the forest regions of Wisconsin, Michigan, and 
Minnesota were devastated by fires of extraordinary extent, 
many villages being burned, while fifteen hundred persons 
perished in Wisconsin alone. To complete this carnival of 
fire, a disastrous conflagration broke out in the business 
district of Boston on November 9, 1872. The loss here 
amounted to seventy-five million dollars, nearly eight 
hundred buildings, many of them large and costly, being 
consumed. These conflagrations gave occasion for one of 
the most striking examples of American enterprise that 
has ever been shown. Almost without delay the process 
of rebuilding the burned districts began, and in a few 
years scarcely a trace of the disasters remained. The 
ruined cities rose again from their ashes more grand, mas- 
sive, and imposing than before. 

Of the Congressional questions that arose during Grant's 
ftrst term, one of the most important was that concerning 
the acquisition of San Domingo. This republic, compris- 
ing a large part of the island of Ilayti, applied for admis- 
sion to the United States, an application which was warmly 
favored by the President. It met, however, with strong 
opposition in Congress, particularly from Senator Sumner, 
and the bill for its acceptance was finally defeated. An- 
other important event of the same term was the exposure 
of the " Credit Mobilier" scheme, which occurred in 1872. 
This consisted in an efi'ort to bribe Cono-ress in favor of 



Morris] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 529 

legislation to the advantage of the Central Pacific Eailroad 
Company. Stock of the railroad was secretly transferred 
at a nominal price to various members of Congress, for 
the purpose of influencing their votes, and the exposure of 
the illegal scheme seriously injured the reputations of many 
members. 

In 1872, General Grant was again elected to the Presi- 
dency, with Henry Wilson for Vice-President. Horace 
Greeley, the nominee of the " Liberal Eepublican" party, 
was supported by the Democratic vote, but was defeated 
by a majority of two hundi'ed and twenty-three electoral 
votes. This second administration of President Grant was 
marked by exhibitions of public dishonesty not less dis- 
creditable than that of the " Credit Mobilier." In 1875, 
Secretarj^ Belknap was impeached by Congress on a charge 
of fraud and peculation in the disposal of Indian post- 
traderships. He was acquitted by the Senate. About the 
same time great revenue frauds were discovered, in which 
persons connected with the government were implicated. 
These were perpetrated by the " Whiskey Eing" in several 
western cities. The trials of the accused parties were 
conducted with so manifest an effort on the part of the 
government authorities to shield certain persons as to cause 
great public distrust and dissatisfaction. The " Star-route" 
frauds in the transportation of the mails, and the exposui'e 
of the o-ia-antic robberies of the " Tweed-ring" in New 
York, and of instances of pubhc dishonesty in Philadel- 
phia, Chicago, and other cities, were other evidences of 
political corruption that were not calculated to indicate 
a high standard of political honesty in the United States 
at the conclusion of its first century of national existence. 
Of the events of this Presidential term, however, the 
most important was the severe financial depression by 
which it was marked. The era of high prices and busi- 
II — X ii 45 



530 AMERICAN BISTORT. [Morris 

ness activity which had followed the war yielded its legiti- 
mate effect in an abnormal growth of the spirit of specula- 
tion. The inevitable consequence followed. In 1873 came 
a financial crash that carried ruin far and wide throughout 
the country. It began on October 1, in the disastrous 
failure of the banking firm of Jay Cooke & Co., of Phil- 
adelphia, the financiers of the Northern Pacific Eailroad. 
Failure after failure succeeded, panic spread through the 
whole business community, and the country was thrown 
into a condition resembling that of 1837, but more disas- 
trous from the fact of the miich greater wealth aifected. 
Years passed before business regained its normal propor- 
tions. A process of contraction set in, the natural change 
from high war to low peace prices, and it was not till 1878 
that the timidity of capital was fully overcome, and busi- 
ness once more began to thrive. In the mean time thou- 
sands of people had been financially ruined and untold 
suffering experienced. 

The succeeding Presidential election, that of 1876, gave 
rise to great excitement and partisan bitterness of feeling, 
in consequence of the closeness of the vote and the method 
of deciding the disputed result. The Eepublican candi- 
dates for President and Vice-President were Eutherford B. 
Hayes, of Ohio, and "William A. Wheeler, of New York. 
The Democratic candidates were Samuel J. Tilden, of New 
York, and Thomas A. Hendricks, of Indiana. So close was 
the vote that the decision of the election turned on the 
method of counting the votes of several States in whicb 
fraud was charged. Both parties claimed that they had 
carried Florida and Louisiana, each accusing the other of 
dishonesty, and so difficult was the question to settle that 
Congress finally referred it to an Electoral Commission, com- 
posed of five each of Senators, Eepi'esentatives, and Justices 
of the Supreme Court. This Commission decided the contest 



Morris] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 531 

in favor of the Eepublican candidates, and, though many 
Democrats were bitterly indignant at the decision, it was 
received with a general sense of relief by the country. One 
of the first acts of President Hayes's administration was 
to remove a prominent cause of ill feeling between the two 
sections of the country, in the withdrawal of the United 
States troops that had sustained the Republican State gov- 
ernments in South Carolina, Florida, and Louisiana. With 
this withdrawal all distinction in the political relations of 
the States ceased, and the States named fell quickly under 
Democratic control. 

On the 4th of July, 1876, the first century of the repub- 
lic ended. This anniversary was observed with the great- 
est rejoicing throughout the country. Its most important 
resultant was the great Centennial International Exhibi- 
tion, held at Philadelphia, and continuing from May 10 to 
November 10 of that j-ear. Designed originally to show 
the immense progress of America in the arts of civiliza- 
tion within the century, it proved eventually of the greatest 
service in teaching Americans their deficiencies in many 
directions, and gave the impulse to a rapid progress in cer- 
tain branches of art and industry which had been com- 
paratively neglected before. This imposing display of the 
industrial products of the world was held on a broad 
plateau in the beautiful expanse of Fairmount Park. The 
Main Exhibition building covered a ground space of 20.02 
acres, while there were several other large, and more than 
two hundred small, buildings. Thirty-eight foreign gov- 
ernments took part, the number of exhibitors was greater 
than in any previous world's fair except that of Paris in 
1867, and the visitors exceeded in number those of any 
previous exhibition. Though financially unsuccessful, as 
an educational institution the enterprise proved of the very 
highest value to the United States. 



532 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

Two other events of importance took place in the Cen- 
tennial year. One of these was the admission of Colorado 
as a State. The other was the outbreak of a serious 
Indian war. During the period covered by this chapter 
there had been numerous difficulties with the Indians. 
Settlers were now pouring rapidly into the western Terri- 
tories, whose tribes had hitherto come little into contact 
with civilization, while the savage instincts of the Indians 
were fully aroused by the lawless practices of many of the 
immigrants. Wars succeeded with the Sioux, the Chey- 
enne, the Modoc, the Apache, and other tribes, of which 
the most important were those with the Sioux. This 
powerful Indian nation, which occupied a broad expanse 
of western territory, and was strongly war-like, made its 
first outbreak in 1862 in Minnesota, where a terrible mas- 
sacre of the unprepared settlors occurred. The leaders of 
the outbreak were subsequently executed, and the Indians 
removed to a reservation in Dakota. A second serious 
trouble began in 1866, caused by the persistent passage of 
gold-seekers through the Sioux reservation. This led to a 
war of two years' duration. In 1876 war again broke out, 
largely as a result of the incursions of miners into the 
Black Hills, a portion of the Sioux territory. This war 
resulted in a serious disaster. On the 25th of June, Gen- 
eral Custer, with the Seventh Cavalry, attacked a village 
of the hostiles, having first despatched Colonel Eeno, with 
three companies, to fall upon it from the rear. The Indians 
defended themselves desperately, and attacked Custer in 
such strength that he and his entire force, about two hun- 
dred and fifty in all, were killed. Eeno was surrounded, 
but held his ground on the blufls until reinforced. The 
war continued till the winter of 1877, when the hostile 
bands of the Sioux, led by their chiefs. Sitting Bull and 
Crazy Horse, crossed the border into Canada. 



Morris] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 533 

Since that period the bitterly hostile Apaches have been 
subdued, and the Indian question seems approaching set- 
tlement. The work of missionaries among the tribes has 
had a useful quieting effect, while the extension of schools 
has j^elded satisfactory results. In April, 1878, several 
Indian young men were placed in the normal school for 
negroes, at Hampton, Virginia. This experiment proved 
so successful that many other Indian youth were subse- 
quently sent there, and a school for Indian children was 
opened at Carlisle, Pennsylvania, whose results have been 
equally satisfactor3^ Many schools have been opened in 
the Indian Territory and elsewhere on the reservations, 
and the work of civilizing the tribes is making encouraging 
progress. This, with the steps now in progi'ess for break- 
ing up the tribal organizations and giving the Indians lands 
in severalty, yields sti'ong promise that habits of industry 
may be aroused and the ideas of civilization developed 
among the tribes, and that thus this ancient and annoying 
problem may be solved successfull}^ 

The remaining years of the Hayes administration were 
marked by several events of importance. In 1878 a severe 
epidemic of yellow fever broke out in New Orleans, which 
spread northward along the Mississippi and reached Mis- 
souri and Tennessee. In all over seven thousand deaths 
■were reported. In the same year a long-existing dispute 
between the United States and Great Britain, concerning 
the fisheries of the northeastern waters, was settled by a 
commission of arbitration. This body held its sessions at 
Halifax, Nova Scotia, and awarded Gi-eat Britain the sum 
of $5,500,000, as the value of the privilege given the 
United States of fishing in the waters of Canada and New- 
foundland. 

On December 17, 1878, gold reached par value in the 
gold-room of the New York Stock Exchange; and on 
II. 45* 



534 AMERICAN BISTORT. [Morris 

January 1, 1879, the United States government resumed 
siDecie payment. For nearly seventeen years (from January 
13, 1862) gold had been above par, and on July 11, 1864, 
had reached the high premium of 285. In 1873 Congress 
had demonetized silver, and made gold the sole standard of 
United States currency. This aroused an opposition from 
the silver-producing interests, which by 1878 became strong 
enough to carry a bill through Congress in which silver was 
made a legal tender in payment of all debts. This bill, 
known as the Bland Silver Bill, contained a clause com- 
pelling the coinage of at least $2,000,000 in silver every 
month, which continued operative until July 1, 1891, when 
the provisions of a new bill, passed by the Fifty-First 
Congress, came into effect. 

In 1877 occurred the most destructive industrial outbreak 
that has ever been known in this country. The famous 
railroad strikes of that year, which were attended by great 
violence, immense destruction of property, and considerable 
loss of life, began at Martinsburg, West Virginia, on the 
Baltimore and Ohio EaOroad. They quickly extended to 
the Pennsylvania, the Erie, and many other roads, the 
strikers numbering about one hundred thousand men, who 
stopped operations on over six thousand miles of railroad. 
Travel and the movement of freight were for a consider- 
able time suspended, the lawless element of the community 
joined the strikers, and mob-rule for a time was supreme at 
Pittsburg and other places. In Pittsburg the militia were 
attacked, the railroad buildings set on fire, the freight-cars 
broken open and robbed, and property was destroyed of the 
estimated value of ^5,000,000. This included about 1600 
cars and 126 locomotives burned, with nearly all the shops 
of the railroad. Disordei's occurred at Eeading, Scranton, 
St. Louis, and other places, and for a week the railroad 
traffic of the couiatry almost ceased to exist. 



Morris] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 535 

In the Presidential campaign of 1880 the Eepublican 
candidates were James A. Garfield and Chester A. Arthur; 
the Democratic, Winfield S. Hancock and William H. Eng- 
lish. The Eepublican ticket was elected with an electoral 
majority of fifty-nine. This was quickly followed by an 
event as terrible and distressing as that which followed the 
second election of Lincoln. On July 2, 1881, Garfield was 
shot and mortally wounded in the railroad depot at Wash- 
ington, by a fanatical and disappointed oflSce-seeker named 
Charles J. Guiteau. There succeeded a long period in which 
the sympathies of the country and of the whole civilized 
world were profoundly aroused for the brave and suffering 
victim of the assassin. For months he lay between life and 
death, his patience and heroism under suffering exciting 
wide-spread admiration. He died at Long Branch, New 
Jersey, whither he had been removed, on September 19, — 
an exalted victim to a venal condition of public affairs 
which had long been a reproach to the country. 

The doctrine that " to the victors belong the spoils" had 
for fifty 3'ears been held as a political axiom, and at every 
change of party in the administration there had been a 
general dismissal of old and appointment of new ofiice- 
holders, chosen with little or no thought of their fitness for 
the positions to be filled, but almost solely on the basis of 
their political influence. Under such a system dishonesty, 
incompetence, and neglect of duty necessarily prevailed, 
until they became almost unbearable evils. Gradually a 
strong sentiment in favor of a reform in the civil service, 
of appointment to office without regard to party affiliation 
and with regard only to fitness and competency, and of 
retention in office of all who did their duty, grew up in the 
country, and became an important element in the political 
situation. This made its appearance during the Hayes 
election, and grew rapidly during the succeeding four years. 



536 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

Gai'field was quite as much a candidate of the civil service 
reform section of the Eepublican party as of the party as 
a whole. The party, indeed, became divided into two fac- 
tions, and on Garfield's manifesting a decided intention of 
adopting new prineij)les of appointment to office, Eoscoe 
Conkling and Thomas C. Piatt, the Senators from ISTew 
York, and leaders in the " stalwart" section of the party, 
resigned their seats. They apparently believed that they 
would be supported by their constituents in this action ; 
but on their application for re-election they were defeated, 
and the policy of the President sustained. 

The strength of the sentiment in favor of civil service 
reform was thus strongly indicated, and it resulted in a bill, 
which passed Congress in 1883, establishing the principle 
of competitive examination for the filling of minor offices 
under the United States government. The provisions of 
this bill were not obligatory upon the President, and have 
not been closely complied with ; but the public feeling in 
favor of the new system has grown rapidly during the 
years of its exercise, its application is extending, and it 
may eventually become the sole method of appointment 
and promotion in all except the highest offices. 

In 1880 were concluded two treaties with China, of which 
one has yielded important results. The first treaty of the 
United States with this exclusive nation was signed in 1868. 
This gave valuable commercial privileges. One of the sub- 
sequent treaties related to commerce, and the other gave to 
our government the regulation of the Chinese immigration, 
which had become an evil of alarming proportions. Chinese 
of the lower class of laborers were at that time flowing into 
the United States in great numbers, and their influx had 
created severe disturbance in the labor market of the Pacific 
coast. So great became the opposition to them that a law 
was passed by Congress in 1882, prohibiting Chinese immi- 



Morris] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 537 

gration for ten years. This law has been enforced with all 
possible stringency, and has been strengthened by a more 
recent enactment, which provides that Chinese who leave 
the country shall not be permitted to return. 

Among other events of importance which occurred during 
the administration of President Arthur, who had succeeded 
to the Presidency on Garfield's death, was the adoption, in 
1883, of what is known as " standard time." This system, 
established principally for the convenience of railroad travel, 
divides the country into four sections, each of 15° of longi- 
tude, within each of which the time is uniform, while the 
time in each differs from that of the adjoining section by 
exactly one hour. Thus, at 12 o'clock noon in New York 
(eastern time), it is 11 a.m. in Chicago (central time), 10 in 
Denver (mountain time), and 9 in San Fx*ancisco (Pacific 
time). The system is of the greatest utility in the regu- 
lation of railroad time-tables. 

Another important enactment was the reduction of letter 
postage from three to two cents for each half-ounce, which 
went into effect on October 1, 1883. In 1885 a new enact- 
ment made the postage two cents for each one-ounce letter. 

In the winter of 1884-85 a world's fair was held at 
New Orleans, its original purpose being to celebrate the 
hundredth year of cotton cultivation on this continent, 
a purpose which was extended to include all products. 
Though the contributions from European nations were 
of small importance, the exhibition proved a highly in- 
teresting display of the products of this continent, and 
particularly indicated the gi*eat industrial development of 
the South. 

In the Presidential campaign of 1884 the nominees for 
President and Vice-President were: Democratic, Grover 
Cleveland, of New York, and Thomas A. Hendricks, of 
Indiana ; Republican, James G. Blaine, of Maine, and John 



538 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

A. Logan, of Illinois ; there being also nominations by the 
People's party and the Prohibition party. The election 
was one of imusual closeness, its final decision turning 
upon the electoral vote of New York, where the official 
count gave a small Democratic majority. In consequence, 
Cleveland and Hendricks were elected, and the country 
obtained a Democratic administration, the first since that 
of Buchanan. For many years, however, the power in 
Congress had been divided between the two parties. The 
election of 1874 had broken the long Eepublican control 
of Congress, a so-called " tidal wave" of Eepublican defeat 
giving a strong Democratic majority in the House of 
Eepresentatives. The Democrats continued in control of 
the House till 1881, and during the Forty-Sixth Congress 
(1879-81) had a majority in the Senate also. In the Forty- 
Seventh Congress the Eepublicans returned to power, but 
in 1883 the Democratic party regained control of the House, 
which it held until 1889. But the Eepublican majority in 
the Senate had been restored, and that party was able to 
prevent any radical Democratic legislation during the Cleve- 
land administration. 

General Grant died July 23, 1885, after a distressing ill- 
ness. On November 25, of the same year, Vice-President 
Hendricks expired suddenly. This event aroused Congress 
to a duty which had been long neglected, the enactment 
of a satisfactory Presidential succession law. As the laws 
of the country stood, in the event of the death of Cleve- 
land before the expiration of his term there was no ade- 
quate provision for the filling of the vacated chair. A 
bill was accordingly introduced in Congress, and passed in 
1886, providing that, in case of such a contingency, the 
office of President should be filled by a member of the 
Cabinet, the order of succession being as follows : Secre- 
taries of State, of the Treasury, and of War, Attorney- 



Morris] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 539 

General, Postmaster-General, Secretary of the Navy, and 
Secretary of the Interior. 

On the evening of August 31, 1886, occun-ed the most 
disastrous earthquake ever known within the limits of the 
United States. The disturbance centred in the vicinity of 
Charleston, South Carolina, in which city several shocks 
followed each other in rapid succession, causing frightful 
damage. Houses fell on all sides, fires broke out in the 
ruins, the people fled wildly to the streets to find them 
blocked up by the falling walls, numbers of the inhabitants 
were killed, and for days the city was a scene of terror, 
the panic-stricken people camping in the parks, and not 
daring to return to their residences. In the surrounding 
country fissures opened in the ground, and in man}'- places 
the earth subsided from three to eight feet. Months passed 
before the earthquake shocks completely ceased. The 
damage to the city of Charleston was estimated at about 
ten million dollars. 

In the same year occurred another threatening event of 
a very different nature, — a murderous outbreak of the anar- 
chists, who had come in great numbers from Europe to this 
country, and had actively inculcated here their dangerous 
ideas of social reform. It had its incitement in the general 
agitation among the laboring classes for an eight-hour work- 
ing day, a concerted movement to enforce which was fixed 
for May 1, 1886. On that day strikes took place in several 
cities, but particularly in Chicago, where violent demon- 
strations were made. This city had long been a head- 
quarters of the anarchists, who had been permitted to 
organize and advocate measures of reform by fire and 
bloodshed with little opposition. Taking advantage of the 
labor disturbances, a large body of them met in the streets, 
where violent speeches were made. The police, fearing 
trouble from the incendiary suggestions of the speakers, 



540 AMERICAN HISTORY. ■ [Morris 

attempted to disperse the meeting, when a dj'-namite bomb 
was thrown into the midst of a large body of the guardians 
of the law. It exploded with terrible effect, seven of the 
officers being killed and sixty-one wounded. In conse- 
quence of this outrage many of the anarchists were 
arrested, and seven of them sentenced to death. Of these 
four were hung, one killed himself, and the sentences of the 
others were changed to imprisonment for life. 

Of the events of 1887 one of the most interesting 
wsa the celebration of the Centennial anniversary of the 
adoption of the Constitution of the United States. This 
took place at Philadelphia, the seat of the Constitutional 
Convention, and was accompanied by military and in- 
dustrial processions of remarkable extent and imjiressive- 
ness. 

In the Presidential campaign of 1888 the Eepublican 
nominees were Benjamin Harrison, of Indiana, grandson of 
the former President, William H. Harrison, and Levi P. 
Morton, of New York ; the Democratic, Grover Cleveland, 
of New York, and Allen G. Thurman, of Ohio. The 
Republican ticket was successful, Harrison and Morton 
receiving an electoral majority of sixty-five votes. In 
addition, the Republicans gained a good working majority 
in both Houses of Congress. 

During the period to which we have now come several 
events of great public interest occurred. In 1889 Congress 
passed a bill favoring the excavation of an inter-oceanic 
canal in Nicaragua, a work of high importance, which is 
now in process of accomplishment. Another bill opened 
Oklahoma to settlement. This large district, which lies in 
the heart of the Indian Territory, but was not included in 
the reservations of any of the tribes, had long been held 
by many westerners as subject to settlement under the 
Homestead Laws, and several efforts had been made to 



Morris] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 541 

take forcible possession of it. These Avere repelled by 
United States troops. In time, however, the feeling be- 
came so great that Congress was induced to pass a law 
declaring the district open for settlement. It was finally 
opened, by proclamation, at noon of April 22, 1889. At 
the hour proclaimed thousands of intending settlers, on 
cars, on horseback, and in vehicles of every description, 
rushed across the border and staked out farm and city 
sites in the territory, most of the desirable situations being 
taken up by nightfall of the day of opening. It is said 
that over fifty thousand settlers entered the territory before 
nightfall of the first day. City governments were formed 
and the organization of the general country introduced 
with phenomenal rapidity, and the district quickly assumed 
the appearance of an old and thriving settlement. Okla- 
homa was organized as a Territory of the United States by 
act of Congress, May 2, 1890. Since its opening a large 
portion of the Sioux reservation in South Dakota has been 
similarly opened for settlement, while the Cherokee Out- 
let, an extensive district in the northern and northwestern 
section of the Indian Territory, will probably be opened 
as soon as the Cherokee claim upon it can be satisfactorily 
settled. 

In 1889 occurred another disaster, still more destructive 
than the Charleston earthquake. On May 31, after a severe 
rain-storm, a dam gave way on a branch of the Conemaugh 
River, in Western Pennsylvania. The waters of an exten- 
sive reservoir poured through the break into the valley, 
sweeping away several small settlements, and descending 
in a terrible flood on the important manufacturing city 
of Johnstown. This city, with the extensive iron-works 
adjoining it, was almost totally destroyed, entailing a loss 
of many million dollars' worth of property, while several 
thousands of the inhabitants were drowned. So far as loss 
II. 46 



542 AMERICAN HISTORF. [Morris 

of life was concerned, no disaster approaching this in mag- 
nitude had ever before occurred in the United States, and 
the utmost public sympathy was aroused. Charitable dona- 
tions were made in the greatest abundance, and everything 
possible was done to alleviate the distress j)roduced. The 
city was rebuilt with surprising rapidity, and within two 
years scarcely a trace of the disaster remained. 

The year 1890 was signalized by a number of important 
occurrences, which now call for consideration. Prominent 
among these were the Congressional proceedings of that 
year. Early in the session of the Fifty-First Congress, 
Thomas B. Eeed, Speaker of the House of Eepresentatives, 
surprised the country, and created intense feeling in the 
Democratic section of the House, by adopting new rules 
for the conduct of business, in which certain time-honored 
customs, which had long been used to restrict and defeat 
legislation, were set aside, and radical methods employed 
in their place. In consequence of this action, a new set of 
rules for the government of the House, adapted to prevent 
" filibustering," were proposed, and adopted on February 
14, 1890. Of the new rules, the most impoi'tant were 
those declaring that dilatory motions should not be enter- 
tained, that members present and not voting might be 
counted to make a quorum, and that one hundred members 
would constitute a quorum in Committee of the Whole. 
These rules are likely to be retained whichever party con- 
trols, as they are of unquestioned advantage to the party 
in power. 

On April 16 a new tariff measure, largely increasing the 
duties on many articles of commerce, and revising the 
duties on the whole list of imported articles, was offered by 
William McKinley, of Ohio, and pressed with great vigor 
by the Eepublican majority of the House. It was finally 
passed on May 21, 1890. During the preceding years 



Morris] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 543 

several low-tariff measures had been introduced by the 
Democratic majority of the House, but had failed to pass 
the Senate, and this was the first important change in the 
tariff that had been made for many years. It contained 
one unusual provision, proposed by Secretary Blaine, 
and adopted by Congress, which is likely to be of great 
future importance to the commerce of this country. This 
was a measure for reciprocal free trade in certain articles. 
The articles embraced were sugar, molasses, coffee, tea, and 
hides, important products of the countries south of the 
United States. These it is proposed to admit free of duty 
to this country from any nation that similarly removes the 
duties from certain natural and manufactured products of 
the United States. Such a reciprocal compact has already 
been entered into by the United States and Brazil, and 
seems about to be accepted by Spain in favor of Cuba, 
while it is under consideration by other countries of Cen- 
tral and South America. 

Several other legislative matters of great importance 
occupied the attention of Congress during the sessions of 
1890 and 1891. The free coinage of silver was strongly 
advocated, and a bill was finally passed which provided 
that there should be purchased each month all the silver 
offered, not to exceed four and a half million ounces, to be 
covered by an issue of treasury notes of equal value, and 
that after July 1, 1891, the date of limitation of the old 
law, sufiicient silver dollars should be coined monthly to 
provide for the redemption of the treasury notes thus 
issued. Bills to restrict trusts and monopolies, and to pre- 
vent the passage of lottery announcements through the 
mails and their insertion in newspapers, were also passed. 
One of the most important acts of the session of the win- 
ter of 1890-91 was the passage of a copyright bill, extend- 
ing to foreign authors the same protection in this country 



544 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morkis 

as is enjoyed by American authors. It had taken more 
than fifty years to get this measure of public justice 
through Congress. 

Other important measures of recent legislation are the 
following. Pension bills have been passed from time to 
time for several years past, increasing the amount and 
extending the range of pension payments so as greatly to 
add to the annual sum paid to pensioners. For the year 
ending June 30, 1890, the sum paid in pensions reached 
$106,493,890, while the number of pensioners increased 
to 537,944. In several States constitutional amendments 
prohibiting the sale of intoxicating liquors had been 
adopted, whose enforcement was seriously interfered with 
by a Supreme Court decision which declared that no State 
law could restrict the introduction and sale of liquor in 
original packages, this being protected by the inter-State 
commerce law. In consequence, an active sale of liquor 
in so-called "original packages" began in the prohibition 
States. This evasion of State law was brought to an end 
in 1890 by an act of Congress covering the controverted 
point, and giving the States full control over the sale of 
liquors within their borders. Of the remaining legislative 
actions of the Fifty-First Congress, the most important was 
the attempt to-pass a bill for the control of Congressional 
elections in the South, the so-called " Force Bill," which 
was designed to prevent interference with the negro vote. 
This act was bitterly contested, and was so far from uniting 
all the Eepubliean members in its favor that it was finally 
abandoned. 

A highly important measure of Congressional action 
within the period now under consideration was the admis- 
sion of no loss than six new States to the Union. Two of 
these, North Dakota and South Dakota, were formed from 
the former Territory of Dakota, their date of admission being 



MoRKis] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY 545 

November 3, 1889. The admission of Montana dates from 
N'ovember 8, and of Washington from November 11, 1889 ; 
while in 1890 two States were admitted, Idaho on July 3, 
and Wyoming on July 11. These bring the total number 
of States up to forty-four. 

In the autumn of 1890 the general elections for the 
members of the Fifty-Second Congress took place, and mani- 
fested a surprising change in the political aspect of the 
country. The Eepublican majority in the House of Eep- 
resentatives was not only lost, but the Eepublican section 
of the House almost disappeared. From a majority of 
twenty-four in the preceding Congress, it sank to a minority 
of one hundred and forty-nine, giving the Democratic party 
complete control. The Eepublicans retained, however, a 
majority in the Senate. 

During the period now under consideration the control of 
American politics had not been left solely in the hands of the 
two leading parties, various minor organizations having 
taken part in the contest. Of these, the strongest was the 
Prohibition party, which nominated Presidential candidates 
at every election from 1872 onwards. The Woman's Eights 
party was also occasionally in the field with a candidate. 
In the Congressional election of 1890 new political elements 
came into the field, and with such strength as markedly to 
affect the result. The strongest of these was the Farmers' 
Alliance, — a new organization which has largely replaced 
the Patrons of Husbandry and other agricultural associa- 
tions, and is distinctly political in its aims. Its vote, dis- 
tributed through several of the Southern and Western 
States, aggregated 230,843, and was sufficient to give it 
eight members of Congress and a considerable membership 
in State legislatures. Encouraged by this success, a con- 
vention of delegates from the Farmers' Alliance and from 
other labor organizations was held at Cincinnati in 1891, at 
II.— ^^ 46* 



546 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

which a new party, to be called the People's party, was 
formed, with radical demands in its platform of prin- 
ciples. 

For several years prior to 1891 there had been trouble 
encountered in the Behring Sea seal fisheries, through the 
incursions of Canadian poachers. United States revenue 
cutters were in consequence sent thither, and captured 
several poaching vessels. This action gave rise to a severe 
controversy between the United States and Great Britain, 
the latter country claiming that these captures had been 
made in waters over which the United States had no juris- 
diction, and the former country denying this. After a 
somewhat hot diplomatic contest. Great Britain, perceiving 
that while the correspondence went on the fur seals might 
be annihilated, consented to the adoption of a close season 
until the depleted numbers of these valuable animals could 
be restored and some international agreement for future 
action be reached. The whole subject of our relations with 
Canada, in fact, is in an unsettled state, the question of the 
fisheries, a treaty for the settlement of which was rejected 
by Congress in 1887, being in an unsatisfactory condition, 
while a strong party in favor of commercial reciprocity, if 
not for national union, between the two countries seems 
growing in Canada. 

International questions of high importance in other direc- 
tions have arisen within recent years. On October 2, 1889, 
there assembled in the city of Washington a convention of 
delegates from the various republics of America, whose 
deliberations extended over several months, and resulted in 
a number of important propositions. One of these, which 
was signed by most of the delegates, proposed the settle- 
ment of all American disputes by arbitration, war to be left 
as a final resort. A second was for the building of a con- 
tinental railroad, for the purpose of bringing all the nations 



Morris] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 547 

of America into closer relations. Preliminary steps in fur- 
therance of this project have been taken. 

An international question of a threatening asjDcct arose 
in 1891 between Italy and the United States. It had its 
origin in the acts of the '^ Mafia," a society of Sicilian mur- 
derers, which was strongly represented in New Orleans, 
in which city many secret murders had been committed 
through its agency. Its work ended in the assassination of 
the chief of police of that city, who had tracked the mur- 
derers too closely for their safety. Several Italians, against 
whom strong evidence of participation in this murder ex- 
isted, were arrested and brought to trial, but were acquitted 
by the jury under supposed intimidation. In consequence, 
a band of indignant citizens gathered, stormed the prison, 
and put the accused to death. 

This affair created high excitement in Italy. The Italian 
government demanded that the l3mchers should be arrested 
and punished, and, as no immediate steps were taken to this 
end, the Italian minister was ordered home, and for a time 
a threat of war was in the air. In the diplomatic conduct 
of the affair, however. Secretary Blaine showed great skill 
and decision, and the Italian Prime Minister found it con- 
venient in the end to withdraw his preposterous demands 
for immediate settlement, and leave the question to due 
process of law in this country. The final outcome of the 
affair was a report by the New Orleans grand jury virtually 
exonerating the lynchers, and the whole subject of dispute 
vanished with this decision. 

One important effect of it, however, was to create a 
strong feeling in favor of a radical amendment to the 
American immigration laws. The class of immigrants 
that have been recently seeking this country is, in great 
measure, little less objectionable than the excluded Chinese, 
and, though laws have been passed to prevent tbe landing 



548 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

of those who are likely to become an immediate burden 
upon the country, or who have been brought over under 
contract, thousands of others are entering of a decidedly 
undesirable character. This condition of affairs has roused 
a strong and wide-spread feeling of opposition, which 
extends far beyond the laboring classes, and can scarcely 
fail to yield important restrictive changes in our immigra- 
tion laws in the near future. 

The winter of 1890-91 was signalized by an outbreak 
among the Indians, whose relations with the whites had 
for several years before been peaceful. Very probably 
injudicious, and perhaps dishonest, dealiogs of Indian 
agents had a share in the causes of this outbreak, but its 
immediate incitement was a wide-spread delusion of super- 
stition, which extended through many of the tribes during 
1890. There was promulgated the story of the coming of 
an Indian Saviour, through whose power the whites were 
to be exterminated and the Indians to become supreme in 
the land. The excitement of the savages thus aroused 
gave rise to a peculiar dance, called the ghost dance, and 
the danger of murderous raids on the white settlements 
became so great that the military authorities were kept 
actively on the alert. The danger finall}' centred in the 
Sioux reservations of South Dakota, where the shrewd old 
chief, Sitting Bull, secretly sought to provoke hostilities. 
General Miles, in command of the department, hurried a 
military force to this quarter, but was not in time to pre- 
vent a considerable party of hostiles fleeing to the Bad 
Lands, where they seized a large number of cattle and 
placed themselves in a posture of defence. The difficulty 
ended in bloodshed. An attempt was made to arrest Sit- 
ting Bull by Indian police, and an affray resulted in which 
several of the police were shot, and the wily old cons^jira- 
tor, who was the leading instigator of the outbreak, was 



Morris] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 549 

killed. A more disastrous collision arose from an effort to 
disarm a band of Sioux, who fired upon the soldiers when 
unprepared and unsuspecting, killing a number of them. 
The soldiers retaliated, and shot down the murderers with- 
out mercy. General Miles, however, succeeded in per- 
suading the remaining hostiles to submit, and what had 
promised to be a very dangerous affair was settled without 
further collision. 

The year 1890 was marked by one further event of 
leading public interest, the taking of the eleventh census 
of the United States. The count of the population yielded 
a total of 62,622,250, being an increase of 12,466,467, or 
24.86 per cent, over that of 1880. The first census of the 
United States, taken in 1790, one hundred years before, 
showed a population of 3,929,214, indicating a growth of 
sixteen-fold in the population during the century. That a 
remarkable development will be shown to have taken j)Iace 
within recent decades in every particular of material prog- 
ress is already manifest, though the census returns have 
yet been but partly published. The vast growth in wealth 
and development in civilization in America during the four 
centuries since its discovery by Columbus in 1492, it is 
designed to show by a " World's Columbian Exposition," 
to be held in Chicago in 1893. Preparations are now 
actively making for this event, which is destined to tell 
the most marvellous story of human progress in the whole 
history of mankind. 

In addition to the subjects treated, some brief mention 
may be made of another interesting topic of recent legis- 
lation, the new navy of the United States. For twenty 
and more years after the close of the war the navy of this 
country continued in a state of decadence, until it became 
reduced to a small number of antiquated vessels, which 
would have been practically useless in the event of war 



550 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

with a European power. Within a few years past active 
efforts have been made to overcome this unsatisfactory 
condition of affairs. A considerable number of swift 
unarmored cruisers have been built, and others are build- 
ing ; while a respectable fleet of powerful armored vessels 
is now afloat, and three coast-defence battle-ships, which 
are designed to be of unsurpassed strength and power, 
are under construction. The last-named vessels are to be 
heavily armored with nickel-steel, whose resisting powers 
have been proven to be far superior to those of iron or steel 
armor. All these vessels have been, or will be, provided 
with powerful armaments of the best breech-loading rifled 
guns, the ai-mament designed for the battle-ships named 
being sui^erior to that of any war vessel now afloat. At 
present, therefore, the United States has a respectable 
navy, and in a few years it promises to take rank with the 
leading naval powers of the world. 

In concluding this record of recent events in the United 
States, we may briefly refer to some of the more promi- 
nent items of progress in the arts and industries and in 
governmental concerns. 

Under the latter heading comes the existing condition 
of American finances. The great war debt of the country 
has been reduced with a rapidity that has excited the 
admiration and envy of all other civilized nations. On 
August 13, 1865, this war debt reached its highest point, 
being then $2,756,431,571.43. On June 30, 1890, the net 
amount of debt was $964,961,669. In twenty-five years 
two-thirds of the enormous debt had been paid. Of the 
1890 debt the interest-bearing portion was $711,313,110, on 
which the rate of interest had been reduced from over six 
to an average of about four per cent. In 1865 the interest 
charge was $150,977,603. For the year ending June 30, 1890, 
it was $29,417,603, or less than one-fifth its greatest amount. 



MoRKis] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 551 

This phenomenal debt-reduction is a marvel without 
px-ecedent upon the earth, and has been rendered possi- 
ble by the enormous increase of this country in wealth 
since the close of the war. In 1880 Great Britain was the 
only richer country on the globe. To-day there is no richer 
country. The enormous product of the fields, the mines, 
and the manufacturing industries of the United States has 
raised it to the leading position in the record of material 
wealth. 

In rapidity of railroad development the United States 
stands far above rivalry. At the end of 1889 it had 152,689 
miles of line, being nearly half that of the entire earth. 
The greatest mileage of any other country was that of 
Germany, 25,450 miles. The telegraph mileage of the 
United States in 1890 was 254,110 miles, nearly one-third 
that of the world. Another item of progress of great 
interest and importance is that of the various electrical 
devices, most of which have been developed within fifteen 
years past. The development of the electric light has been 
most remarkable, and there are now said to be a quarter of 
a million of arc and nearly three millions of incandescent 
lights in use in this country. The telephone has developed 
with no less rapidity, and had in 1890 over 200,000 miles 
of wire in use. Of electric railroads, there were 113 in 
operation, with 636 miles of track, and 45 in construction, 
with over 500 miles of track. In the post-office department 
of the United States, the number of offices increased from 
20,550 in 1865, to 62,401 in 1890; the miles of route from 
142,340 to 427,991; and the revenue from $14,566,159 to 
$60,882,097. The number of pieces of postal matter of all 
kinds which now annually pass through the mails is nearly 
4,000,000,000. In 1890 there were 25,857 patents issued in 
the United States. In the same j-ear there were 16,948 
newspapers published, being more than one-third the num- 



552 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris 

ber issued in the whole world. The total annual issue of 
papers was over 3,400,000,000. 

Of other matters of interest may be mentioned the de- 
velopment of the Signal-Service of the United States, which 
in the past twenty years has grown to a state of great 
efficiency, and whose predictions of coming weather-changes 
are of the utmost value to farmers and mariners ; and the 
Life-Saving Service, which has greatly reduced the loss of 
life through wreckage on our coasts. 

Very much more might be said concerning the material 
and social progress of the United States, covering its de- 
velopment in manufactures and commerce ; its unfoldment 
in mineral wealth ; the remarkably rapid settlement of the 
West and development of its agriculture, largely through 
irrigation ; the great progress that has been made in art and 
literature; the extension of education, with its new and 
important branch of manual training ; and numerous other 
topics: but the subject is too great a one for the space at 
our command, and we shall refer but to one other subject, 
that of the progress of the South. 

At the end of the war the Southern States were left 
in a condition of virtual ruin. Little more than their soil 
remained, and that had been greatly exhausted by over- 
tillage. The slaves, on whom they had depended to do 
their work, were free, and how they would act was problem- 
atical. It looked as if a century might be needed for full 
recovery. Yet to-day the South is far richer and more 
prosperous than ever before. Free labor has proved more 
profitable than slave labor, and the white population has 
gone to work cheerfully and energetically. The cotton 
crop of 1890 was the greatest ever raised, though the 
scope of Southern agriculture has been widened to include 
many other articles. Mining enterprise has developed 
lew and highly promising elements of wealth. Among 



Morris] REVIEW OF RECENT HISTORY. 553 

these are the extensive phosphate deposits of South Caro- 
lina and Florida. But the most important minerals are 
the iron and coal of the Appalachian Mountain slopes, 
which are now not only being extensively mined, but are 
being largely employed in a new development of Southern 
enterprise, that of manufacture. In Georgia, Alabama, 
Tennessee, and other States, manufacturing industries are 
being energetically developed, particularly in the production 
of cotton and iron fabrics, and the South is coming into 
active competition with the North as a manufacturing 
community. The whole of the United States, indeed, has 
become one great hive of industry, very much of which 
has been developed since the completion of our first century 
of national life ; and the second century of the great republic 
bids fair to place it at the head of the nations of the earth 
in population, wealth, and industry, and make it the equal 
of any in art and literature. 



47 



IN"DEX OF SUBJECTS. 



A. 

Aborigines of America, The, Charles 

Morris, i. 28. 
Acadians, The Expulsion of the, James 

Nan II ay, i. 333. 
America, How the Stamp Act was re- 
ceived in, Richard Hildreth, i. 406. 
America in 1776, Eugene Lawrence, i. 

495. 
America, Political Development in, 

Charles Morris, i. 380. 
America, The Aborigines of, Charles 

Morris, i. 28. 
America, The Discovery of, by Colum- 
bus, Washington Irving,!. 49. 
America, The Discovery of, by the 

Northmen, A. J. Weise, i. 22. 
American Revolution, The, Section 

VII., ii. 7, 
Americans, On the Origin of the, 

Hubert H. Bancroft, i. 9. 
Antietam, The Conflict at, Benson J. 

Lossing, ii. 392. 
Army and Country after the War, The, 

John Marshall, ii. 136. 
Arnold on Lake Champlain, Isaac N. 

Arnold, i. 462, 
Arnold, The Treason of, Jared Sparks, 

ii. 106. 

B. 

Bacon Rebellion, The, Charles Camp- 
bell, i. 260. 

Balboa, The Discovery of the Pacific 
by, Thomas F. Gordon, i. 61. 

Battle at Lake George, The, Francis 
Parhman, i. 322. 

Battle of Buena Vista, The, John 
Frost, ii. 337. 

Battle of Bunker Hill, The, William 
Cutter, i. 450. 



Battle of Shiloh, The, William Swin- 

ton, ii. 407. 
Battle of the Thames, The, Charles J. 

Ingersoll, ii. 243. 
Bon Homme Richard and the Serapis, 

The, James Fenimore Cooper, ii. 94. 
Boston, The Siege of, David Ramsay, 

i. 472. 
Boston Port Bill, The Tea Tax and 

the, James Grahame, i. 431. 
Braddock's Defeat, John Frost, i. 313. 
Brown, John, and the Raid upon Har- 
per's Ferry, Horace Greeley, ii. 363. 
Buena Vista, The Battle of, John Frost, 

ii. 337. 
Bunker Hill, The Battle of, William 

Cutter, i. 450. 
Burgoyne, The Surrender of, Edward 

S. Creasy, ii. 60. 

C. 

Capture and Burning of Washington, 

The, Benson J. Lossing, ii. 260. 
Capture of Long Island and New 

York, J. D. Steele, ii. 19. 
Capture of Philadelphia, The, Charles 

Botta, ii. 38. 
Century, The First Quarter of the, 

Charles Morris, ii. 286. 
Champlain and the Iroquois, Francis 

Parkman, i. 172. 
Champlain, Lake, Arnold on, Isaac 

N. Arnold, i. 462. 
Charge at Lundy's Lane, The, H. M. 

Brackeiiridge, ii. 248. 
Cherokees, War with the, Benjamin 

Trumbull, i. 368. 
Chesapeake Affair and the Embargo, 

The, James Schouler, ii. 212. 
City of Mexico, Retreat of Cort^a 

from the, William H. Prescott, i. 69. 

555 



556 



INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 



Civil War, Events preceding the, 

Charles Morris, ii. 360. 
Civil War, The Era of, Section X., ii. 

363. 
Colonial Hostilities, Francis X. Gar- 

neau, i. 273. 
Colonies, England and her, Mary 

Howitt, i. 396. 
Colonies of Sir Walter Raleigh, The, 

Mary Howitt, i. 105. 
Colonies, Progress of the. Section IV., 

i. 217. 
Columbus in Europe, William Robert- 
son, i. 40. 
Columbus, The Discovery of America 

by, Washington Irving, i. 49. 
Columbus, The Period before. Section 

I., i. 9. 
Compromise, The Missouri, Herman 

E. von Hoist, ii. 305. 
Conflict at Antietam, The, Benson J. 

Lossing, ii. 392. 
Constitution and the Guerriere, The, 

Joel T. Headley, ii. 226. 
Constitution, The Making of the, 

Richard Frothingham, ii. 147. 
Continental Congress, The, and its 

Doings, Edmund Oilier, i. 480. 
Cornwallis, The Surrender of, Ahiel 

Holmes, ii. 127. 
Cortes, Retreat of, from the City of 

Mexico, William H. Prescott, i. 69. 
Cowpens, The, and Guilford Court- 

Ilouse, George Washington Greene, 

ii. 117. 



Death of King Philip, The, Benjamin 

Church, i. 225. 
Decatur, Stephen, and the Frigate 

Philadelphia, James Fenimore 

Cooper, ii. 201. 
Declaration of Independence, The, 

Thomas Jefferson, i. 507. 
Defence of New Orleans, The, George 

R. Gleig, ii. 272. 
Development, National, Progress of, 

Section IX., ii. 286. 
Development, Political, in America, 

Charles Morris, i. 380. 
Discovery of America by Columbus, 

The, Washington Irving, i. 49. 
Discovery of America by the North- 
men, The, A. J. Weise, i. 22. 



Discovery of the Pacific by Balboa, 
The, Thomas F. Gordon, i. 61. 

Discovery of the St. Lawrence, The, 
John McMullen, i. 89. 

Discovery, The Era of. Section II., i. 
40. 

Embargo, The Chesapeake Affair and 
the, James Schouler, ii. 212, 

England and her Colonies, Mary 
Howitt, i. 396. 

Era of Civil War, The, Section X., ii. 
363. 

Era of Discovery, The, Section II., i. 40. 

Era of Settlement, The, Section III., 
i. 114. 

Erie, Lake, Perry's Victory on, Theo- 
dore Roosevelt, ii. 234. 

Europe, Columbusin, William Robert- 
son, i, 40. 

Events preceding the Civil War, 
Charles Morris, ii. 350. 

Expedition against Fort Schuyler, 
The, Benson J. Lossing, ii. 48. 

Expulsion of the Acadians, The, 
James Hannay, i. 333, 

F. 

Farragut on the Mississippi, Joel T. 

Headley, ii. 426. 
First Quarter of the Century, The, 

Charles Morris, ii. 286. 
First Shots of the Revolution, The, 

Thomas Wentworth Higginson, i. 

444, 
Fort Schuyler, The Expedition against, 

Benson J. Lossing, ii. 48. 
Fort Sumter Bombarded, Orville J. 

Victor, ii. 372. 
Franklin in France, Jared Sparks, ii. 

82. 
French and Indian War, The, Section 

v., i. 301. 
French and Indian War, The Opening 

of the, Jared Sparks, i. 304. 
French Protestants, The Massacre of 

the, Walter Besant, i. 97, 
Fu-sang, The Kingdom of, ^S", Wella 

Williams, i, 18, 

G, 

Georgia, The Spanish Invasion of, 
William Bacon Stevens, i. 284, 



INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 



557 



Gettysburg, Pickett's Charge at, Comte 

de Paris, ii. 467. 
" Grand Model" Government, The, 

Hiirjh Williamson, i. 203, 
Growth of Discontent, The, Henry 

Cabot Lodge, i. 424. 
Guerriere, The Constitution and the, 

Joel T. Headley, ii. 226. 
Guilford Court-House, The Cowpens 

and, George Washington Greene, ii. 

117. 

H. 

Harper's Ferry, John Brown and the 

Raid on, Horace Greeley, ii. 363. 
Hernando de Soto, N. D'Anvers, i. 

80. 
History, Review of Recent, Charles 

Morris, ii, 520. 
How the Stamp Act was received in 

America, Richard Hildreth, i. 406, 



Independence, The Declaration of, 

Thomas Jefferson, i. 507. 
Indian Massacre in Virginia, The, 

Robert R. Howison, i. 130. 
Indian War, The French and, Section 

v., i. 301. 
Indian War, The French and, Opening 

of the, Jared Sparks, i. 304. 
Indians, Western, War with the, 

James Steward, ii. 180. 
Insurrection in Pennsylvania, The 

Whiskey, John C. Hamilton, ii. 161. 
Introductory Remarks, i. 114, 301. 
Iroquois, Champlain and the, Francis 

Parkman, i. 172. 



Jamestown Colony, John Smith and 
the, Charles Campbell, i. 116. 

John Brown and the Raid on Harper's 
Ferry, Horace Greeley, ii. 363. 

John Smith and the Jamestown Col- 
ony, Charles Campbell, i. 116. 



Kentucky, The Pioneer of, John S. C. 

Abbott, ii. 169. 
King Philip, The Death of, Benjamin 

Church, i. 225. 



Kingdom of Fu-sang, The, S. WelU 
Williams, i, 18, 

Ii. 

Lake George, The Battle at, Francis 

Parkman, i, 322. 
Landing of the Pilgrims, The, John 

Gorham Palfrey, i. 145. 
Lee's Army, The Last March of, Ar- 

mistead L. Long, ii. 500. 
Leisler Revolt in New York, The, 

William Smith, i. 251. 
Long Island and New York, Capture 

of, J. Z». Steele, ii. 19. 
Lookout Mountain and Missionary 

Ridge, Thomas B. Van Home, ii, 

452. 
Louisiana and the Natchez, Le Page 

Du Pratz, i. 208. 
Louisiana, The Purchase of, John 

Bach McMaster, ii. 189. 
Lundy's Lane, The Charge at, H, M. 

Brackenridge, ii. 248. 

M. 

Making of the Constitution, The, 

Richard Frothingham, ii. 147. 
March to the Sea, Sherman's, William 

T. Sherman, ii. 482. 
Maryland, The Settlement of, J. 

Thomas Scharf, i. 138. 
Massacre in Virginia, The Indian, 

Robert R. Howison, i. 130. 
Massacre of the French Protestants, 

The, Waller Besant, i. 97. 
Merrimack, The Monitor and the, 

John W. Draper, ii. 384, 
Mexico, Retreat of Cortes from the 

City of, William H. Prescott, i. 69, 
Missionary Ridge, Lookout Mountain 

and, Thomas B. Van Home, ii. 

452. 
Mississippi, Farragut on the, Joel T. 

Headley, ii, 426, 
Missouri Compromise, The, Herman 

E. von Hoist, ii. 305, 
Monitor and the Merrimack, The, John 

W. Draper, ii. 384, 
Montcalm at Quebec, Wolfe and, 

Washington Irving, 1, 355, 

M", 

Natchez, Louisiana and the, Le Page 
Du Pratz, i, 208, 



558 



INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 



National Development, Progress of, 

Section IX., ii. 286. 
Negro Plot in New York, The, Mary 

L. Booth, i. 292. 
New England, Religious Dissensions 

in, William liobertson, i. 154, 
New England, The Tyrant of, Benja- 
min Truinhull, 1. 243. 
New Orleans, The Defence of, George 

H. Gleicj, ii. 272, 
New York, Capture of Long Island 

and, J. B. Steele, ii. 19. 
New York, The Leisler Revolt in, 

William Smith, i. 251. 
New York, The Negro Plot in, Mary 

L. Booth, i. 292. 
New York, The Settlement of, E. B. 

O'Callaghan, i. 182. 
Northmen, The Discovery of America 

by the, A. J. Weise, i. 22. 
Nullification, The Ordinance of, Ed- 

icard Everett, ii. .317. 

O. 

Opening of the French and Indian 
War, The, Jared Sparks, i. 304. 

Ordinance of Nullification, The, Ed- 
ward Everett, ii. 317. 

Origin of the Americans, On the, 
Hubert H. Bancroft, i. 9. 

P. 

Pacific, The Discovery of the, by 
Balboa, Thomas F. Gordon, i. 61. 

Parliamentary Examination, A, Ben- 
jamin Franklin, i. 414. 

Pennsylvania, The Whiskey Insurrec- 
tion in, John C. Hamilton, ii. 161. 

Pequot War, The, G. H. Hollister, i. 
162. 

Period before Columbus, The, Section 
I., i. 9. 

Perry's Victory on Lake Erie, Theo- 
dore Roosevelt, ii. 234. 

Persecution of the Quakers, The, James 
Grahame, i. 217. 

Philadelphia, Stephen Decatur and 
the Frigate, James Fenimore Cooper, 
ii. 201. 

Philadelphia, The Capture of, Charles 
Botta, ii. 38. 

Philip, The Death of King, Benjamin 
Church, i, 225. 



Pickett's Charge at Gettysburg, Comte 

de Paris, ii. 467. 
Pilgrims, The Landing of the, John 

Gorham Palfrey, i. 145. 
Pioneer of Kentucky, The, John S. C. 

Abbott, ii. 169. 
Political Development in America, 

Charles Morris, i. 380. 
Progress of the Colonies, Section IV., 

i. 217. 
Progress of National Development, 

Section IX., ii. 286. 
Protestants, The Massacre of the 

French, Walter Besant, i. 97. 
Purchase of Louisiana, The, John 

Bach McMaster, ii. 189. 



Quaker Colony, The, John Stovghton, 
i. 193. 

Quakers, The Persecution of the, James 
Grahame, i. 217. 

Quebec, AVoIfe and Montcalm at, Wash- 
ington Irving, i. 355. 



E. 



Raleigh, The Colonies of Sir Walter, 

Mary Horoitt, i. 105. 
Rebellion, The Bacon, Charles Camp- 
bell, i. 260. 
Religious Dissensions in New England, 

William Robertson, i. 154. 
Retreat of Cortes from the City of 

Mexico, William H. Prescott, i. 69. 
Review of Recent History, Charles 

Morris, ii. 520. 
Revolution, The American, Section 

VII., ii. 7. 
Revolution, The First Shots of the, 

Thomas Wentworth Higginson, i. 

444. 
Revolution, The Threshold of the, 

Section VI., i. 380. 

S. 

Salem Witchcraft, The, George Ban 
croft, i. 233. 

Schuyler, The Expedition against Fort, 
Benson .1. Lossing, ii. 48. 

Seminole War, The, George R. Fair- 
banks, ii. 328. 



i 



INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 



559 



Serapis, The Bon Homme Richard nnd 

the, James Fenimore Cooper, ii. 94. 
Settlement of Maryland, The, J. 

Thomas Scharf, i. 138. 
Settlement of New York, The, E. B. 

0' Callaghan, i. 182. 
Settlement, The Era of, Section III., 

i. 114. 
Sherman's March to the Sea, WiUium 

T. Sherman, ii. 482. 
Shiloh, The Battle of, William Swin- 

ton, ii. 407. 
Siege of Boston, The, David Ramsay, 

i. 472. •" 

Siege of Vicksburg, The, Admn Ba- 

deau, ii. 436. 
Smith, .John, and the Jamestown 

Colony, Charles Campbell, i. 116. 
Soto, Hernando de, N. D'Ancers, i. 80. 
Spanish Invasion of Georgia, The, 

William Bacon Stevens, i.'284. 
Stamp Act, How received in America, 

Richard Hildreth, i. 406. 
St. Lawrence, The Discovery of the, 

John Mc Mullen, i. 89. 
Sumter, Fort, Bombarded, Orville J. 

Victor, ii. 372. 
Surrender of Burgoyne, The, Edward 

S. Creasy, ii. 60. 
Surrender of Cornwallis, The, Ahiel 

Holmes, ii. 127. 

T. 

Tea Ta.x, The, and the Boston Port 
Bill, James Grahame, i. 431. 

Thames, The Battle of the, Charles J. 
InrjersoU, ii. 243. 

Three Years of Warfare, Ahiel Holmes, 
i. 344. 

Threshold of the Revolution, The, 
Section VI., i. 380. 

Treason of Arnold, The, Jared Sparks, 
ii. 106. 

Trenton, The Victory at, Henry B 
Carrimjton, ii. 27. 

Two Years of War, Charles Morris, ii, 
221. 

Tyrant of New England, The, Benja- 
min Trnmbtdl, i. 243. 



Union, The, Founded and Sustained, 
Section VIII., ii. 136. 

V. 

Valley Forge, Washington at, Wash- 
ington Irving, ii. 73. 

Vicksburg, The Siege of, Adam Ba- 
deau, ii. 436. 

Victory at Trenton, The, Henry B. 
Carrington, ii. 27. 

Victory on Lake Erie, Perry's, Theo- 
dore Roosevelt, ii. 234. 

Virginia, The Indian Massacre in, 
Robert B. Hoivison, i. 130. 

War, Civil, Events preceding the, 
Charles Morris, ii. 350. 

War, The Era of Civil, Section X., ii. 
363. 

War, The French and Indian, Section 
F., i. 301. 

War, The Opening of the French and 
Indian, Jared Sparks, i. 304. 

War, The Pequot, G. H. Hollister, i. 
162. 

War, The Seminole, George R. Fair- 
banks, ii. 328. 

War, Two Years of, Charles Morris, 
ii. 221. 

War with the Cherokees, Benjamin 
Trumbull, i. 368. 

War with the Western Indians, James 
Steward, ii. 180. 

Warfare, Three Years of, Abiel Holmes, 
i. 344. 

Washington at Valley Forge, Wash- 
ington Irving, ii. 73. 

Washington, The Capture and Burn- 
ing of, Benson J. tossing, ii. 260. 

Whiskey Insurrection in Pennsyl- 
vania, The, John C. Hantilton, ii. 
161. 
Witchcraft, The Salem, George Ban- 
croft, i. 233. 
Wolfe and Montcalm at Quebec, Wash- 
ington Irving, i. 355. 



INDEX OF AUTHOES. 



Abbott, John S. C, The Pioneer of 

Kentucky, ii. 169. 
Arnold, Isaac N., Arnold on Lake 

Champlain, i. 462. 

B. 

Badeau, Adam, The Siege of Vicks- 
burg, ii. 436. 

BANcnoFT, George, The Salem Witch- 
craft, i. 233. 

Bancroft, Hubert H., On the Origin 
of the Americans, i. 9. 

Besant, Walter, The Massacre of the 
French Protestants, i. 97. 

Booth, Mary L., The Negro Plot in 
New York, i. 292. 

Botta, Charles, The Capture of Phil- 
adelphia, ii. 38. 

Brackenridge, H. M., The Charge at 
Lundy's Lane, ii. 248. 



Campbell, Charles, John Smith and 

the Jamestown Colony, i. 116; The 

Bacon Rebellion, i. 260. 
Carrington, Henry B., The Victory 

at Trenton, ii. 27. 
Church, Benjamin, The Death of 

King Philip, i. 225. 
Cooper, James Fenimore, The Bon 

Homme Richard and the Serapis, ii. 

94 ; Stephen Decatur and the Frigate 

Philadelphia, ii. 201. 
Creasy, Edward S., The Surrender 

of Burgoyne, ii. 60. 
Cutter, William, The Battle of 

Bunker Hill, i. 450. 

560 



D. 

D'Anters, N., Hernando de Soto, i. 

80. 
Draper, John William, The Monitor 

and the Merrimack, ii. 383. 
Du Pratz, Le Page, Louisiana and 

the Natchez, i. 208. 



Everett, Edward, The Ordinance of 
Nullification, ii. 317. 



Fairbanks, George R., The Seminole 
War, ii. 328. 

Franklin, Benjamin, A Parliamen- 
tary Examination, i. 414. 

Frost, John, Braddock's Defeat, i. 
313 ; The Battle of Buena Vista, ii. 
337. 

Frothingham, Richard, The Making 
of the Constitution, ii. 147. 

G. 

Garneau, Francis X., Colonial Hos- 
tilities, i. 273. 

Gleig, George R., The Defence of 
New Orleans, ii. 272. 

Gordon, Thomas F., The Discovery of 
the Pacific by Balboa, i. 61. 

Grahajie, James, The Persecution of 
the Quakers, i. 217; The Tea Tax 
and the Boston Port Bill, i. 431. 

Greeley, Horace, John Brown and 
the Raid on Harper's Ferry, ii. 363. 

Greene, George Washington, The 
Cowpens and Guilford Court-House, 
ii. 117. 



INDEX OF AUTHORS. 



561 



Hamilton, John C, The Whiskey In- 
surrection in Pennsylvania, ii. 161. 

Hannay, James, The Expulsion of the 
Acadians, i. 333. 

Headley, Joel T., The Constitution 
and the Guerriere, ii. 226 ; Farragut 
on the Mississippi, ii. 426. 

HiGGiNsoN, Thomas Wentworth, The 
FirGt Shots of the Revolution, i. 
444. 

HiLDRETH, Richard, How the Stamp 
Act was received in America, i. 
406. 

Hollister, G. H., The Pequot War, 
i. 162. 

Holmes, Abiel, Three Years of Wur- 
fare, i. 344; The Surrender of Corn- 
wallis, ii. 127. 

HoLST, Herman E. von, The Missouri 
Compromise, ii. 305. 

HowisoN, Robert R., The Indian Mas- 
sacre in Virginia, i. 130. 

HowiTT, Mary, The Colonies of Sir 
Walter Raleigh, i. 105; England 
and her Colonies, i. 396. 



I. 

Ingersoll, Charles J., The Battle of 

the Thames, ii. 243. 
Irving, Washington, The Discovery 

of America by Columbus, i. 49; 

Wolfe and Montcalm at Quebec, i. 

355; Washington at Valley Forge, 

ii. 73. 

J. 

Jefferson, Thomas, The Declaration 
of Independence, i. 507. 



Ii. 

Lawrence, Eugene, America in 1776 

i. 495. ' 

Lodge, Henry Cabot, The Growth of 

Discontent, i. 424. 
Long, Armistead L., The Final March 

of Lee's Army, ii. 500. 
Lossing, Benson J., The Expedition 

against Fort Schuyler, ii. 48; The 
U.—U 



Capture and Burning of Washing- 
ton, ii. 260 ; The Conflict at Antie- 
tam, ii. 392. 

M. 

McMaster, John Bach, The Purchase 
of Louisiana, ii. 1S9. 

McMuLLEN, John, The Discovery of 
the St. Lawrence, i. 89. 

Marshall, John, The Army and 
Country after the War, ii. 136. 

Morris, Charles, The Aborigines of 
America, i. 28; Political Develop- 
ment in America, i. 380 ; Two Years 
of War, ii. 221; The First Quarter 
of the Century, ii. 286; Events pre- 
ceding the Civil War, ii. 350 ; Re- 
view of Recent History, ii. 520. 

O. 

O'Callaghan, E. B., The Settlement 

of New York, i. 182. 
Ollier, Edmund, The Continental 

Congress and its Doings, i. 480. 

P. 

Palfrey, John Gorham, The Landing 

of the Pilgrims, i. 145. 
Paris, Oomte de, Pickett's Charge 

at Gettysburg, ii. 467. 
Parkman, Francis, Champlain and 

the Iroquois, i. 172; The Battle at 

Lake George, i. 322. 
Prescott, William H., Retreat of 

Cortes from the City of Mexico, i. 

69. ' 

R. 

Ramsay, David, The Siege of Boston, 

i. 472. 
Robertson, William, Columbus in 

Europe, i. 40 ; Religious Dissensions 

in New England, i. 154. 
Roosevelt, Theodore, Perry's Victory 

on Lake Erie, ii. 234. 

S. 

Scharf, J. Thomas, The Settlement 
of Maryland, i. 138. 



562 



INDEX OF AUTHORS. 



ScHOULER, James, The Chesapeake 
AfiFair and the Embargo, ii. 212. 

Sherman, William T., Sherman's 
March to the Sea, ii. 482. 

Smith, William, The Leisler Revolt 
in New York, i. 251. 

Sparks, Jared, The Opening of the 
French and Indian War, i. 304; 
Franklin in France, ii. 82; The 
Treason of Arnold, ii. 106. 

Steele, J. D., Capture of Long Island 
and New York, ii. 19. 

Stevens, William Bacon, The Span- 
ish Invasion of Georgia, i. 284. 

Steward, James, War with the West- 
ern Indians, ii. 180. 

Stopghton, John, The Quaker Colony, 
i. 193. 

SwiNTON, William, The Battle of 
Shiloh, ii. 407. 



Trumbull, Benjamin, The Tyrant of 
New England, i. 243 ; War with the 
Cherokees, i. 368. 

V. 

Van Horne, Thomas B., Lookout 
Mountain and Missionary Ridge, 
ii. 452. 

Victor, Orville J., Fort Sumter 
Bombarded, ii. 372. 

■w. 

Weise, a. J., The Discovery of Amer- 
ica by the Northmen, i. 22. 

Williams, S. Wells, The Kingdom 
of Fu-sang, i. 18. 

Williamson, Hugh, The " Grand 
Model" Government, 1, 203. 



THE END. 



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